Remnant: The Everdistant Elysium
by Chaos Productions
Summary: The Four Kingdoms of Remnant are experiencing an incredible time of peace, and with their combined efforts, the threats of war and strife have been reduced to an all-time low. Now the young Huntsmen and Huntresses in-training are preparing to shoulder the burden of upholding this peace - but unfortunately for them, THIS is one war nobody in Remnant was ever prepared for...
1. Chapter 1

**Pre-Chapter Author's Note:** **And here we go! The start of my more lighthearted story of Servants and Huntsmen. Not much to say here in the beginning, really - you'll find most of the relevant info in the Post-Chapter AN, because I believe Pre-AN's aren't made for rambling.**

 **Just one little tidbit, though: You'll noticed there's a certain someone in this chapter with a... kooky personality, not at all like how he was portrayed in-universe.**

 **This was intentional - more in the post-Chapter AN!**

 **So without further ado...**

* * *

 **REMNANT: THE EVERDISTANT ELYSIUM**

 **PROLOGUE:  
A Sign of Coming Storms**

In the heart of the Grimmlands, an abhuman chorus of monstrous wails and growls and roars drifted upwards from the canopy of a blackened forest, and rose into an abyssal night sky as great beams of white light danced across the treetops, reflected off a shattered moon.

In the harsh lands beneath, a congregation was occurring. The creatures of Grimm were coming from every edge of these blasted lands, drawn by something so enticing, so alluring, that they were robbed of all choice and will in the matter. As a tidal wave of blackness and bone the marched forward, to a vast clearing in the jungle bathed in pale light. Their pace was a lumbering one; from the nimblest Beowolf to the most titanic Goliath, there was little to no haste in their movements despite the vast _wrongness_ that was drawing them to this clearing and pulling on their every string. There was an unnatural, asymmetrical rank and file to their movements as they pushed forwards, entranced by something they could barely comprehend, and occasionally every great beast in their impromptu horde paused to let out an absolutely deafening roar or shriek towards the night sky.

The beasts were starting to huddle around the clearing, bodies of writhing, coiling muscle pressed flush against one another as they struggled, too eager to take a step back, too disconcerted to take a step forwards. Beowolves and Creeps clambered up onto the backs of mighty Goliaths and Griffons and Nevermores circled the night sky, their harsh cries acting as the crescendo to the Grimm's unholy orchestra of inhumane sound. Like enthralled savages they clambered upon one another, forming an coliseum of writhing blackness and fur and bone around the stark clearing, and their unholy song only climbed in volume, in intensity, in _ferocity_ , until it was a certainty those humans who dared stalked this land were now running for the borders with nary a coherent thought in mind.

And at long last, the beasts' patience was rewarded.

The dim night sky above writhed and twisted and twitched and churned, as the very fabric of reality tore itself asunder. The broken moon hovering above was distorted as a seemingly cosmic whirlpool obscured it, the once broken sphere turning into a myriad of alien shapes as space seemed to fold in on itself in mid-air.

Finally, with a loud burst of incomprehensible sound that knocked Griffons and Nevermores from the air by the _dozens_ , a hole was ripped into existence with a flash of red light, hovering there above the clearing and basking the stark space a sickly, disgusting shade of red.

The Grimm responded in kind to this phenomenon; every ounce of harmony and orchestra in their wrath song evaporated as the beasts flew into a frenzy. The walls of blackness shifted like wild ocean waves beneath this otherworldly phenomenon, and the soulless creatures bashing against one another, breaking their bodies against each other in savagery, poured every little bit of breath in their lungs into horrendous roars and shrieks. Goliaths thundered their cry as they rose their trunks skyward, their lumbering forms crushing smaller Grimm underfoot by the dozens per step, and Nevermores and Griffons fell from the sky every other moment, their wings bent and battered as they rocketed into one another in their desperate frenzy.

The wound in the night sky intensified then, crackling as unknown energies lanced through it in bolts of sizzling thunder, and it began to _hum_ as the redness shining from it intensified. The clearing beneath was painted a shade of literal blood, redder than the eyes of the beasts that surrounded it – before a shadow bloomed in the centre as something finally started materializing far above.

Whatever it was, it bubbled and boiled as slowly dripped through the rift in thick rivulets. Every fat, smattering drop that oozed through the wound and plummeted to the ground singed the feathers off every Griffon or Nevermore it touched, and the ground _steamed_ as the gunk splattered down on it. More and more droplets followed, seemingly raining from the wound in the sky in a torrential downpour of acidic malevolence.

The wound belched, and twisted, and groaned – _and stretched_.

And with a sickening squelch an enormous blob of horrid blackness was sent plummeting to the ground beneath, the trench that had been ripped into the fabric of space beforehand closing with a sickening _pop_ , leaving only the plummeting blob of acidic muck as a testament of its presence. The disgusting clump of horrid gunk slammed down on the clearing with a sickening splatter, and every trace of life caught in the torrent of its impact, from the smallest fern to the largest fallen trunk, turned to nothingness before its heinous onslaught. The blackness splattered onto the walls of Grimm that surrounded it, and the beasts _howled_ and _roared_ in torment as the mud eroded them all the way down to their very bones. The clump expanded, then, _violently_ ; crashing waves of darkened mud rose and slammed against the legions of monsters that surrounded it, slaying them by the hundreds as it bubbled and boiled and rose, destroying everything it touched. The muddy substance flowed under the monsters' feet, and they sank into it, turning to ash and ichor with ear-piercing screeches and roars of agony. Taijitu's writhed and coiled in an attempt to shake the mud off as it ate through their scales, heedless of how much worse the great snakes' spasming was making it, and Goliaths desperately trudged from side to side as the darkness ate away at them inch by painful inch. Creeps and Beowolves were swallowed by the blackness whole, and Ursai managed but a few pitiful groans at best before the mud consumed them utterly.

It was a carnage – a slaughter, a display of dominance and destruction the creatures of Grimm had no hope of matching. The mud devoured everything in its path – from the smallest Creep to the greatest, mightiest Goliath. And in the skies above, spurred into madness by the ever-tempting darkness, the Griffons and the Nevermores uttered their own shrill cries – before folding in their wings and diving down towards the blackness. The varying impacts, akin to a hail of coiled muscle and dark plumage, sent droplets of the vile mud flying in every direction. They disappeared beneath the mud the moment they hit it, the scalding ichor melting the aviary creatures down to naught but dust and smoke.

And as it feasted on these heinous creatures, the mud _grew_.

It swelled and churned as an utterly inhuman voice joined the chorus of darkness. The black ichor coiled and stretched and _rose_ , towering into the night sky, and as if complementing its sinister nature the very moon above took on a sickening red hue under the waves of alien _wrongness_ the ichor gave off. More and more, it grew, reaching skywards like a towering crowned spire; prongs akin to clawed fingers bloomed atop the growing column of blackness as something _despicable_ writhed within its confines, making the mock-prison swell as though in labour. Spindly limbs pushed against the walls of blackness as a dark orb bloomed above the crowned tower of sludge, and just as it finally grew to its apex…

…a single red eye opened in the muddy confines, glaring seemingly at existence itself.

That crimson orb shone red, stretched to its very limits; it was a spiteful glare, a _hateful_ glare, one filled to the brim with naught but sinister intent and scorn and _rage_ … so much rage and so much disdain and so much _loathing_. The makeshift womb of stained ichor shifted again as _something_ within started pushing against the sides; sickening membrane folded under the pressure of powerful fingertips, straining against whatever was trying to escape as a _roar_ seemed to echo within the sludge and make the towering spire _quiver_.

And then…

Then it ceased.

Almost listlessly, the hateful eye flicked closed, and the fingertips trying to tear through the muddy membrane receded. A valiant effort it might have been, but still in vain – a birth now was unlikely.

A wish had been made, after all – and it was a wish that denied the being dwelling within the membranous gunk everything.

With a final swell, the spire started to recede. The earth beneath it had grown ashen and desolate under its influence, cracked and salted in such a way nothing would ever grow there again – yet still, the soil of Remnant parted, bubbling like boiling water as it formed a makeshift grave for the colossal mass of ichor. A low, muted wail gurgled within the mud's confines as the great vessel sank deeper and deeper into the earth, before finally the barren soil of the clearing swallowed it whole, leaving only the dissolving bones of those Grimm too large to be immediately consumed in its wake.

Deeper and deeper down the mass of sludge went, that gurgled wail persisting all the while…

…and as it did so, the world of Remnant _shuddered_.

* * *

Blearily she tried to open her eyes, and blink away the darkness, only for a surge of panic to wrap its icy fingers around her heart. She felt _nothing_ – not the errant twitches of her eyelids, not the nervous flexing of her fingers, not even a heartbeat or a swell in her lungs as she tried and _failed_ to draw breath. Nothing… It was as though her body had been stripped away, and her consciousness left in an unerring blackness, and… and…

 _How…?_

Eagerly she wracked her mind, pulling up memory after desperate memory as she forced the panic aside as she had so frequently done before… before all _this_. Had she still had a body, she was quite certain her breathing would still be coming out in ragged gasps, however, and if nothing else, the chill she felt right now would have set a physical form trembling. But none of that mattered now – what mattered was…

… _How… did I get here?_

 _What is all this?_

Then, in the darkness around her, a voice penetrated the stillness, one so unlike her own, one so _strange_ and _out of place_ she felt a spiritual jolt as it started speaking:

" _Sooooo… That happened,"_ it said, the voice itself tinted with an almost slimy coat of devil-may-care attitude. " _Gotta hand it to you, Gems; that marked the first time I've seen someone_ fuck something up _so badly, and hey, where I'm from catastrophic fuck-ups happen every other Monday! So congrats, really, on raising the bar in my world even though you didn't really come from there in the first place."_ A series of lilting, slow claps echoed in the darkness, and… and…

In spirit, she frowned.

Was this voice actually _sassing_ her?!

" _Yes,"_ said voice answered immediately. " _Well technically no, I'm actually being sarcastic but hey, where I'm from social conventions are a wee bit kooky, you know? So hey, for all we know I'm actually being honest in which case: Wahey! Congratulations! On breaking barriers, both literally and theoretically. I'd conjure a medal for you but I can't exactly hang it on your consciousness, y'know? So you'll have to make do with a hearty ol' pat on the – Oh. Heh. My bad!"_

She was _quite_ sure she would be glaring at this menace if she still had eyes. Honestly, it had been such a long time since she'd had to deal with uppity little snots she had almost forgotten how much of a pain in the neck they could be…

" _Why, thank you!"_ the voice cheered in the distance. " _Love the whole inner-monologue shtick, by the way! Really brings out the seriousness in your eye- Oh. Heh. My bad! Again!"_

Shaking off the scumbag's taunts – in spirit, at least – she quickly turned her attention back to the present. A black void, no feeling – actually, no _body_ going by this snooty bastard's taunts – and no idea about how all of this happened apart from a few blurry images of-

" _Wait!"_ the Bastard's voice called out again. _"Wait, wait, wait a minute – are you for_ real _? Do you_ seriously _not remember how this happened?"_ It asked, voice hacking as the beginnings of mad laughter started tugging at its disembodied throat. " _Aha! Ahaha oh man, that… Sheesh, you just put the metaphorical cherry on top of this literal Fuck-Up Cake! It's a chocolate cake, by the way. Muddy chocolate. Hmmmm-mm-Oh God no, I think I just threw up in my mouth a bit. Gagh!_ _ **Anyway!**_ " It said, clearing its throat. " _You seem to be kinda in the dark here so-heh. Hehepfffft. Aha, oh my… 'In the dark', hahaa! Oh I crack myself up sometimes. Ahem! Seeing as you've got a big ol' black hole in your memory, let me fill you in. In fact! Let me tell you a story!"_

 _I'd rather you didn't,_ the disembodied woman thought flatly.

" _Yeah? Well tough crystals, Gem Girl, I'm the one with the voice here so I'm the one holding the leash. And the ball-gag. And maybe even the blindfold too but that's a 'special' party trick. Anyway!"_ It went on, pointedly ignoring the shudder that rocked the disembodied woman hanging in the darkness. " _Imagine this scenario, okay? Put yourself in my shoes. So on one fine day, everything's going particularly swell. Was a beautiful day, really – a city was burning, some people died, the sky was black and smoky and hey, there was even a trashed orphanage!"_ It paused.

… _What_.

" _Anyway! Everything was going absolutely fine. Some blokes got their Command Spells, they summoned their respective Servants and the Servants respectively started fucking shit up. Long story short, all but one died, and the last master – aha, the last master was this_ adorable _little doof, really, she accidentally summoned a Servant… by trying to start a campfire! Ahaha! Aaah, anyway,"_ the disembodied voice said mirthfully. " _The last Master used a Command Spell to make the last Servant kill himself, probably because said Servant couldn't_ come _without someone's heels digging into his back, the spineless fucking sicko! Ahem. Anyway, in summary, that fateful moment occurred where that adorable little doof stood before the Grail, with seven dead Servants kicking the ol' wishmaker into high gear, and what does this crazy gal wish for?"_

The darkness seemed to shift around them and before the disembodied woman could prepare herself, she was staring at a scene of immense carnage, one slightly distorted – as though it were being reflected through a mirror. Amidst burning cities and charred corpses, a young auburn-haired girl stood before a colossal mass of writhing, coiling mud. Her eyes twinkled with excitement, her cheeks were flush, her posture rigid, and finally she opened her mouth and –

"Heroic Spirits are wonderful," she said with a hint of mindless detachment in her voice. "I love them! I love them all! I want to _see_ them all! I wish the Grail War would go on and on – _forever!_ "

And just like that, the disembodied girl was back in utter darkness.

 _Oh,_ she thought, terror gripping at what little of her remained and shaking her down to the very core of her spirit. _Oh my God. That… That shouldn't even be possible…_

A mad cackle in the distance answered her. " _Right?! Normally I'd be pissed because hey, that probably would have gotten the Counter Force involved, and that ain't healthy, ya feel me? I'm not meant to be some kind of Servant Manufacturing Company either, y'know, but_ this _? Ah, it was brilliant! Best wish I've ever seen and lemme tell ya, in_ my _world I saw a_ lot _of wishes. Of course, ol' Murphy just had to be a dick-shaped bag o' dicks and rain on my parade, so to speak."_

The disembodied girl blinked – in a disembodied manner, of course. _…What?_

" _Imagine my face,"_ the zany voice spoke again, " _when the membrane between timelines and continuums thinks 'Oh man, that was some_ bad _chilli earlier' and just up and poops this rickety old bat into existence out of nowhere,"_ it ranted. " _Seriously one moment it's just me and the kook and I'm like 'Ay! Wish granted! One fuckload of Servants coming right up!' and the next moment it's just POP! And there's a rickety, humpbacked old bitch standing between us with a butt-ugly crystal spike-sword-thing in her hands while rambling about timelines."_ It paused. _"That was you, by the way, Gems. I'm talking about you."_ It paused again. " _Ya humpbacked old crone, seriously, get some oil for those joints cuz you were creak-"_

 _I was barely out of my thirties!_ The disembodied girl snapped angrily, despite not having the physical faculties to do so. Her memory fizzed again as she entertained that thought. _Thirty-three,_ she remembered. _But how… Who?!_ Grudgingly, she calmed down, and started gathering her thoughts. Her memories were still foggy, but going by the info this asshat ( _"OI!"_ ) was giving her, that would mean… _The Jewelled Sword,_ she thought hazily. _The Second Magic…_

" _Ding ding ding!"_ the zany voice responded again. " _Got it in one! You rambled something about a 'bitch' called Luvia and that old asshole Zelretch and really that was all the info I needed to tell me_ shit's gon' get fucked _right about then. Long story short, the Adorable Kook attacked you, you killed her by throwing some kind of fireball gem down her throat and turning her into a Disney parody of Dormammu and then you blasted me with that little toy of yours. Except…"_

… _It obviously failed somehow,_ the disembodied girl supplied, somewhat glumly.

" _Failed? Oh, no, Gems, it didn't just fail, it failed_ spectacularly _!"_ the voice taunted her. _"We're somewhere else right about now, lassie, and I don't mean to stoke any fires here but somehow I don't think this place is an 'alternate timeline' of either of our worlds."_

 _Wha…?_ The girl stopped dead – aptly speaking – and tried her damndest to pin a glare on the area the disembodied voice was floating from. _What do you mean?!_

" _I mean_ look around _, Gems,"_ the crazed voice spoke, and the darkness around her faded as the shadows started rippling. Image after image after image flooded by her, and every single sight served only to make the girl's heart drop a bit further. " _For one, the moon's completely fucked,"_ the voice said as the vast whirlpool of visions halted on the shattered moon. " _Seriously, look at that. I dunno about how things were in_ your _timeline, Gems, but where we come from? Something like that isn't exactly easy to pull off,"_ it huffed. " _Then we got these things!"_ It said, and the darkness rippled again, forming more imagery for the girl's mind's eye to behold. Beasts, she noticed – quite the vile kind as well, given how they seemed to be forged from the darkness itself, all murky and black and clad in stark bone. " _Apparently the folks up in this place like to call these things 'Grimm'. Don't ask me how I know, jeez, at least buy me dinner first. Ahem. Now I dunno much – again, likely cuz this ain't one of_ our _timelines – but apparently these little beasties have a_ serious _kill-boner for humans here. But the most intriguing part? Take a look at this, Gems; you ain't gonna believe this_."

Before the disembodied woman could even think to argue or inquire as to what was going to happen, the darkness around her rippled again – this time whirling as though caught by gale-force winds. Her vision jumped from one place to the next, one civilized bastion to another; she beheld a vast desert state unlike _anything_ she'd seen back in her world, and a technological bastion of hovering airships and high-rising towers that could make even the most prolific of science-fiction author quiver. She witnessed a grandiose, opulent city nestled on a wondrously vast archipelago, and with another flicker she saw a great city, seeming more normal than the other three cities… only it was surrounded on all sides by absolutely _verdant_ forestry, with canopies ranging from deep green to dark, bloody red.

It was nothing like the world she knew. She was barely even a _hint_ of similarity in the layout of the lands – she was gazing at a _completely_ different world here.

" _Grand, innit?"_ The voice hollered again as the sights faded away. " _That's about as much as I can do, though. I ain't no First Prophet or the like so I don't magically just blink and poof! I know shit. It's a learning process, it is – and the fact I_ need _to learn now tells me that aye, this right here? This ain't the world we know."_

The girl paused for a moment. _Then… Then how do we get back?_

" _I'unno,"_ came the simple answer – and a pregnant pause; as though a single one-word answer was apparently enough.

The girl thought it was likely that, had she still had a body, her eye would be twitching. _Then how do we get back?!_

" _I'unno."_

Again. _Again_ with that useless answer in that _infuriating_ couldn't-care-less tone, it was as though this jackass couldn't be less bothered by the fact that some kind of backfire left them stranded in an unknown world with unknown laws of reality and existence. With an inward huff the girl settled down again – as much as she could in this murky nothingness – and wracked her brain again. If only she could _remember_ … She couldn't even recall her own name now!

" _Okay yeah, I'll admit_ that _much is a problem. Think you can try recalling anything else? I mean I know you were obviously involved with Zelretch somehow,_ " the Jackass spoke, " _and would you please stop calling me that? Ahem. Maybe if you started playing around with what you've got? I mean ain't that how babies are born? Play around, play around, then poof! Eighteen years of regret and a shiny new thing to brag about. My bet is if you mill around in what little you've got, all the memories should just come flying back to you like humiliating reminders after a night of binge drinking."_ A pause. _"You did mention someone named Luvia when you were first pooped into my world. That name ring a bell?"_

 _Luvia,_ the girl rolled the name around in her mind. It sounded familiar – the name alone brought shocks of blue and white and blonde flickering through her memories, and for some reason the girl couldn't help but think this Luvia person was important somehow. They'd obviously met before, if the flickers of red and white and blonde and the barest hint of brown eyes were flickering that much more fiercely. Then a ruckus blossomed in the darkness around them, shrill enough to make the girl feel the barest sensation of a _wince_ as bygone words returned to her.

' _Of_ course _I'm worried, you stupid girl! I won't even shy away from admitting it – we're_ all _worried about you!... Ever since… Ever since_ he _died you've been on a slow decline, and for God's sakes it's just been getting worse! Your efficiency is waning, your success rate is dropping, and the more we try to figure out what's going on, the more you push us away!... Dammit… I… I can't_ begin _to understand how you must feel, and I can't_ begin _to imagine how hard it is, but_ please _, just stop with the isolation! We… We're your friends, and we're here for you. We can help you. We_ want _to help you… But we can only do that if you let us, Rin!'_

She shuddered as that final word caused a _painful_ twist within her, and she was quite certain she'd be trying to fold in on herself if she still had a physical form. The assault on her mind's eye was becoming downright unbearable as untold amounts of imagery flickered through her memories. She recalled _so many_ different things at that moment – sights from when she looked into mirrors. She recalled her own dark, wavy hair and blue eyes, and how it all changed over the years. She recalled twintails, a ponytail, and at one stage she saw her hair cascade down her back, unbound. She recalled… _school?_ Yes, there was a uniform involved, all white and brown and dark and… and…

It ended there. The sudden onslaught faded away, leaving more questions than answers – but at the very least, the disembodied woman – _Rin_ , she reminded herself – had a bit more to work with now. She couldn't remember much… but she had rediscovered enough to appease her – for now, at least.

" _Ahoy! Wild ride wasn't it?"_ the voice hollered from within the surrounding darkness. " _Oh look at that! I'm not 'the Jackass' anymore! Oh happy days, happy days…"_

 _You… You saw all that?_ Rin inquired, still reeling somewhat from everything she'd seen.

" _Ayup. Every little detail. You were… Heh. I'll be honest with you here Rinny – can I call you Rinny? Fuck it I'm calling you Rinny,"_ the voice decided, without a single care for any objection on Rin's part. " _You, my new disembodied spiritual little friend, looked like one o' those kids I'd trip just for fucks and chuckles. Chuffles? Fuckles? Fuckles!"_

… _Charming,_ Rin responded glibly. _…So what now? What do we do to get out of here?_

" _Let me be completely honest,"_ the voice responded, sounding for the first time as though it were being completely earnest. " _…I haven't a bloody clue,_ " it summarised aptly, and at that moment Rin _desperately_ wished she still had her body, _just_ so she could grind her palm into her face. " _Way I see it, you should just keep milling about in your memories like a bitter old ha-ahahaha not that I'm calling you a hag, oh no, I would never,_ " the voice spoke, _blatantly_ ignoring the fact that it _did_ call her a hag earlier. " _You'll get all your memories back in time and then I have_ no _doubt a genius like yourself can magic us back to wherever we came from_."

… _And what am I supposed to do until then?_ Rin asked morosely, settling down in the darkness that was promising to become her home for a fair while. _Is there some way I can speed up the process of my memories returning?_

" _Not that I'm aware of, no,"_ the voice responded, trying to sound sympathetic – " _No I'm not!"_ – and failing spectacularly – " _Yes I am!"_ – in the process. " _See, it's like this: Think of this like one of those times you drink too much and end up falling asleep in a ditch somewhere ne-HEY! Oy, look at this!"_ The voice hollered suddenly, making Rin undergo a feeling similar to jolting in shock as the void around them started to shudder and twist and ripple. " _Get a load of this! Someone came with us!"_

 _W-What?_ This little tidbit of knowledge managed to surprise Rin. Did she _dare_ hope that the third party was someone who could find… _wherever_ this little prison was and set her free? _What do you mean 'someone came with us'?_

" _I mean,"_ the voice retorted, feigning exasperation, _"that a third person got swallowed up by that temporal sphincter of yours and spat out here! Look!"_ The darkness finally parted slightly, allowing another foggy scene to play out on a mirror-like surface. It was… a _forest_ , seemingly, one with a plumage as red as blood as bark as dark as the shadows themselves. " _Huh. That's a fair distance from here… I guess?"_ Rin was on the verge of shushing the voice when the first trace of _life_ appeared in the scene they were observing.

With a loud, pained grunt the figure pushed off a tree and forged forwards. His breathing was ragged and his movements were almost _pitifully_ laboured, but nonetheless, there was a sort of determination behind every footfall, and a motivating mutter was masked by every shaky exhale. A once stark white robe of finest fabric trailed and billowed behind the man, splaying out in the midnight breeze and giving Rin a bird's eye view of the various singes and burn marks that now decorated the garb. Silvery hair that flickered with the very colours of a rainbow in the occasional beam of moonlight framed a weary, pained face, adorned with narrow eyes and a mouth pulled into a pained grimace as the figure strode forwards, leaning on an ornate black staff that seemed to be woven from some kind of horn. The man… looked like something out of a fairy tale, Rin surmised – and while a normal person would disregard the wounded man as a lunatic, the disembodied magus knew better; that staff was _obviously_ something with great magical properties.

" _Fancy that,"_ the voice in the darkness spoke again. " _Yeowch, he isn't looking too good, though. Looks like he just skinny dipped in my mud, in which case: serves him right, the tosser!... Or not, or not, totally not, it's not like I'd call our only hope for getting out of this world a tosser, nah I'm not stup-Oh_ wow _that's a bad wound he's got there…"_ True to form, Rin saw a deep red stain slowly spreading through the greyish undershirt the magus wore, peeking out from behind the arm that was pressed flush against the man's side. " _Looks like he got gored. Think he'll be okay?"_

Rin could only hope.

The rainbow-haired magus paused, then, reclining against a nearby tree as he tried to catch his breath. It served to make Rin feel a pang akin to worry – she was stuck in an alien place with no memories, no magic and no _body_ ; her hopes were _all_ riding on this unknown magus shoulders. She felt a sensation akin to a twitch as she saw the magus look up into the night sky. Confusion matted his features as he beheld the shattered moon, and he hissed under his breath. It was easy to read the man's face from here; likely he just came to the same conclusion Rin did – that this was not their world, or _any_ alternate timeline thereof. " _Oy!_ " She heard the raspy voice call out. " _That was_ my _deduction you two-bit bumpkin!"_

Rin pointedly ignored that insult, instead opting to focus on the scene playing out before her.

The eccentric magus in forest winced, then, and nearly doubled over, and slowly he withdrew the arm pressed against his side. His shoulders shook at the sight of the blot of red that dominated his sleeve, and even from there Rin could see the fabric covering the wound was still _wet_ with blood. With a careful motion the man placed an open palm against the wound, and his face scrunched up in concentration as a miasma of greenish light suddenly blossomed beneath the fingertips pressing against his side. It flickered, though – something which confused Rin. Was the magus hurt so badly that he couldn't even focus on sustaining a single spell?

The whirling mass of green light dispersed then – and while the wound was _obviously_ not completely healed yet, Rin at least saw a modicum of relief displayed on the magus' face. With the bloodied hand he had just used to try and heal himself, he conjured something – piercing blue light whipped around in his hand as a crystalline sphere formed in his grip, translucent and smooth – and yet, the imperfections were clear as day. Its opacity fluxed, its size varied from interval to interval, and Rin had no doubt that this particular conjuration wouldn't last very long. Nonetheless, it seemed to serve its purpose – like a bullet it shot into the air, glimmering as it twitched every this way and that, before finally coming to a halt above the bloody canopy of the forest, and gaze into the distance.

From here Rin couldn't make out the details of the city in the distance – but she _did_ see the colossal, castle-like structure situated nearby, its elegant design reaching skywards in a metaphorical boast of human achievement. _What is that place?_ Rin found herself asking.

" _Uh… Hang ten,"_ the voice responded, falling silent for a while before answering. " _Think the mundies of this world call that particular city 'Vale'. Heh. Wow. Aren't they creative? I mean yeah, they're facing extinction because of those Grimm things but_ come on _. Vale? A city nestled in a clump of forests and mountains that look like some kinda huge-ass valley? Heh. Next we're gonna find out that desert-based city we found is gonna be named Dunes. Or Drought. Or maybe Oasis! Hah!"_

 _Shut up already!_ Rin hissed, trying to focus on the image before her. The magus nodded as the sphere above locked its arcane gaze on the city in the distance, and with a snap of his fingers the conjured vessel dispersed in a puff of silvery mist. Again, the magus placed a hand against his side, and took a few deep breaths, as though mentally preparing himself for something. Then he closed his eyes, and an expression of utmost serenity crossed his features…

…and with a bright flash of light, the man disappeared – and a silver-feathered falcon took to the skies in his absence.

The darkness returned, once more leaving Rin with more questions than answers. In fact, the _only_ answers the accomplished magus had gleamed from that little spectacle was that a third party had come with them to this world, and that said party was now in his way to… _Vale?_ She could hope that the magus made contact, hopefully tell anyone in control that an object of _great danger_ had made its way here and needed to be destroyed, and-

" _Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop the train right there, sister!"_ The voice interrupted her. _"Destroyed? Me? The hell did I ever do to you?"_ It asked, mock-offense dripping from every syllable. " _I mean yeah I'm not the nicest bloke around but hellooooo, you pretty much stopped whatever the ol' wishmaker created in its tracks when you dropped the ball. Actually you didn't so much 'drop' it, rather you threw it in the complete opposite direction but_ whatever _. Listen, Gems,"_ it said, suddenly serious. " _I don't wanna get destroyed, it sounds boring, and I hate being bored."_ Rin could only marvel at how _honest_ the voice sounded when it said that. As though the 'boring' part was the only part of getting destroyed that offended it. _"Now, how about this? There's no danger, see. A wish was granted, yeah, but it wasn't granted_ here _so I think this world should be marginally safe. After all, the wish has no connection to this place. So what say you we just kick back, relax, learn a bit about each other, maybe get to second base, I dunno?"_

For some reason Rin couldn't place, the audacity of that last bit stung more than she felt was fair. It caused… a certain oppressive weight within what remained of her being. As though… As though the words had tugged an old wound wide open. She could only be thankful, for once, that she didn't have a body to properly display this pain.

" _Ah. I see. A'ight, I overstepped. Sorry. Not really, but… Yeah, really. Let's try being really sorry for once. I'm sorry I made you feel… whatever you're feeling."_ The voice paused then. " _Seriously, though, we need to find some kind of plan of action to pass the time until that magus finds us, because hey, he_ obviously _had some traces of Grail Taint on him so I bet he knows._ "

 _I… You're probably right,_ Rin grudgingly agreed, shunning the sudden ache she felt within her being, locking it away amidst the darkness that surrounded her. She could deal with that baggage at a later time – when she actually remembered what it _was_. _What do you suggest?_

" _I'm glad you asked!"_ The voice responded, suddenly all chipper. " _Normally I'd suggest charades but we've both come down with some pretty gnarly cases of disembodiment so that's out of the loop. How about Truth or Dare? Or no, that'd just be Truth because again: we're pretty much spirits. Sucks we can't haunt people because_ that _would've been funny as all get out. Hmmm… How 'bout twenty thousand questions?"_ The voice asked, and even though she lacked a body Rin already felt a headache blooming _right in the spot where her forehead would've been_ – made _worse_ by the fact that she couldn't nurse it properly. " _Twenty thousand questions is always a hit! I tried playing it with the Adorable Kook before you turned her into ash – shame on you, by the way – and she actually seemed quite keen because sh-Oh. Oooooh. Uh-oh."_

Rin tensed. _What do you mean 'uh-oh'? That doesn't sound good, Jackass._

"… _Because it's not?"_ The voice replied, sounding so small and faint Rin swore it was whispering at her from the far edge of the abyss. " _Uhm… We have a problem, Rinny. A really, really,_ really _big problem. Do you… Uhm… Let's put it this way: How would you react if, by some colossal, cosmic twist of fate, my earlier words about this world not being affected by the Kook's wish somehow became… less true? Not that they are! Never! It's just hypothetical! You could say I'm just-"_

 _Jackass,_ Rin interrupted, her disembodied voice sounding downright _arctic_ as she spoke. _What. Are. You. Talking about?_

" _Ehehehe… Y'know what?"_ The voice responded, and once again the abyss around her shifted and twisted and rippled. " _I think… I think it's just better if I showed you. I'm just… Heheh, I'm just so happy you don't 'technically' have a physical form right now…"_

Rin was confused. _Wha…? Why would you say that?_

The silence that followed as the darkness around her cleared up was almost deafening, until the Jackass spoke up again:

"… _Cause I'm preeeeetty damn sure you'd have a heart attack soon if you did…"_

* * *

Two days after the catastrophic breach in downtown Vale, night-time campus activity at Beacon Academy had hit an all-time low. Relief efforts in the city, although minor, had drawn in many able-bodied potential Huntsmen and Huntresses from the Academy to aid in getting everything fixed and lively again, and day after day, routine excursions and Grimm hunts outside of Vale's borders and in the few accessible parts of Mountain Glenn led to a great deal of energy expended on a daily basis. As such, the students of Beacon Academy often took these peaceful nights as opportunities to rest and relax, and spend a few hours without worrying about missions and rations and support teams and (in the rare cases) tally marks and competition. Often one would hear nary a peep from the student dormitories – be it through hobbies or reserved chatting or last minute studying or even power naps or early nights, the various rooms assigned to the various teams were frequently the very picture of reserved calmness.

Unfortunately, tranquillity never lasts forever – and on this particular night, one dorm room in particular chose to break the cycle of serenity.

"Ow, ow, ow, _ow, owwwwww!"_

With a burst of speed and energy wholly unbefitting of her currently exhausted state, little Ruby Rose catapulted out from under her covers and clean off her bunk, taking the tent-like canvas she had strung up around it with her as she went tumbling down towards the floor, blinking and hissing and gritting her teeth as she pressed both hands against the _agonizingly_ painful spot on her chest that seemed to burn worse than volatile fire dust. It was the _worst_ kind of pain, too, she though – the kind that wasn't _nearly_ enough to bring her to her knees, no way, but the kind that was _also_ just too much to ignore; constantly there, like a bad case of cramps after eating too many sweet things.

Around her, she could hear her teammates uttering similar cries of distress, all varying in tone and tempo. From Weiss' shrill yet short lived squeak of pain to Blake's low, almost rumbling groan to even Yang's boisterous "Yeee _ooow what the hell?"_ , it seemed all of Team RWBY was suffering… _whatever_ decided to ruin Ruby's night all of a sudden. Distantly she could hear Nora going off like a klaxon in the room opposite theirs as well, but given the current situation she didn't worry _too much_ about that.

Instead, Ruby gingerly withdrew her hands from her chest as the stinging sensation subsided slightly. She winced when she looked down at them saw several small specks of blood lining the digits of her fingers, but they seemed almost _dried_ already, somehow. Was it a blister, she thought? It should have been impossible, her aura should have taken care of it long ago. With a soft, confused snort she looked down at the spot that had been stinging so badly – only for her jaw to drop in shock and wonder. _W-W-What?!_

There, situated nicely on the 'V' of her collarbone peeking out above the rim of her tank top, was a tattoo – three circles made up the tips of the letter-shaped mark, like an arrowhead pointing downwards (she realized with no small amount of embarrassed flushing), in the same direction a few trickles of blood had started trailing. Those had been stopped by her shirt, however. The three circles were connected by two strands that looked quite a bit like thorny vines, which made Ruby blink worriedly. _Is this… is this something to do with my semblance_?

"You got one too?" Ruby heard Weiss voice before the Heiress herself managed to step into Ruby's view. Her eyes shone with worry as she looked at the mark adorning Ruby's collarbone, and she seemed to hiss slightly when she saw how bloody it was. "Here," she said, extending a box of tissues towards her teammate. "You look like you need this more than I do."

"Thanks, Weiss," she said, flashing the snowy-haired girl a grateful smile, before her eyes widened. "Wait, you said 'too'! Does that mean…?"

Her question stopped short when Weiss merely raised her arm and displayed the back of her hand to Ruby. She, too, had received one of these weird tattoos – it seemed to be three circles all interlocked with one another. They almost looked like those glyphs the Heiress was so fond of creating, yet… _different_. The way they were situated within one another almost made the array look like a weird kite shield.

"We're not the only ones, either," Weiss said sombrely as Ruby dabbed at her collarbone with the tissues. Blake cautiously joined their impromptu meeting in the middle of the dorm, and wordlessly the girl rolled up the sleeve of her yukata, and displaying the three curved, jagged tattoos arranged in such a way that it resembled a three-pointed star for all to see. _Huh_ , Ruby thought absently, _kinda looks like one of those throwing stars._

"I've checked our Team Status on my scroll," Blake said, her expression the very picture of perplexed. "There have been drops in our Aura. Marginal, maybe, but… It's still worrying. I mean normally tattoos aren't supposed to take even a _bit_ of our Aura…"

"Yeah!" Yang agreed, finishing up the four-person gathering on the central carpet. She had a bloody tissue clenched to her palm with two fingers and a thumb, while the remaining two gingerly pressed against the three rings of inky flames looping around her bicep. "And I'm _pretty_ sure tats aren't an instant deal anyway. Hurts as much as people say it does, though," she said with a wince.

"Any ideas on what these are?" Blake asked, gingerly tracing her tattoo and wincing as her fingers grazed sensitive flesh.

Weiss pondered for a moment, her clear eyes scanning every tattoo before they narrowed with suspicion. "I _think_ maybe it's tied to our Semblances?"She guessed. "Look closely; Ruby tattoo has those brambly vines, and we've _all_ seen the petals she leaves behind. _Especially_ when some of us have to clean them," she stressed, giving Ruby a pointed look. The little reaper at least had the sense to try and look ashamed. "Mine resemble my glyphs," Weiss continued, "and Yang's is obviously… fire…?" She trailed off, before pinching the bridge of her nose. " _That_ theory fell apart quite quickly… Blake's doesn't even look like a clone."

"I don't know _what_ it's supposed to look like," the bookworm replied with a shrug. "I've never even used a shuriken. They're impractical in our line of work."

"This is a headache _waiting_ to happen, I just know it," Weiss said sombrely. "And I've _half_ a mind to suggest we all call it a night and deal with this in the morning when we can actually approach the nurse and the facul-"

A downright _thunderous_ hammering on their door cut Weiss off and made all four of them jump in fright. The heavy blows raining on their dorm's door was akin to an assault, and only Team RWBY's recognition of Nora's excited cries of "Guysguysguys _guysopenuphurryyyyyy!"_

The team shared a concerned look before Blake shrugged and slunk over to the door. With a quick scan of her scroll, she swiftly stepped aside – just as their door was _flung_ open at such speeds the resulting _slam_ from the door impacting the dresser was enough to make all four of them jump again. Nora quite literally _surged_ into the room, her green eyes outright _twinkling_ as though someone had just made the unfortunate mistake of tazing her. "Guys guys guys you will _never_ believe what just-" And then she stopped, dead, in her tracks, as though someone had just found her shut-down switch. Those green eyes _immediately_ latched onto the tattoos – first the one on the back of Weiss' hand, then the ones on Ruby's collarbone, Yang's bicep and Blake's shoulder. She blinked once – slowly – before an absolutely _astronomical_ smile bloomed on her features and an excited squeal poured forth from her throat. " _You guys got them tooooooo!"_ She babbled, eagerly rushing forward while holding out her hand. "We got 'em as well! Look, look!" She said, waving her hand about.

Weiss diligently caught the flailing appendage, and Team RWBY collectively stared at the back of Nora's hand. True to her words, yet another tattoo adorned the hammer-wielder's pale skin; three arcing bolts of thunder formed a display startlingly akin to the tip of a trident. "Isn't it great?" The energetic girl raved.

They were interrupted by a knock on their door, then, and Team RWBY turned to find the rest of Team JNPR standing outside of their dorm, a sheepish look adorning their faces. Jaune was awkwardly scratching the back of his head, Pyrrha offered them a friendly wave and Ren… was looking slightly constipated. And still damp, Ruby noticed. Jaune was the first to speak up – it seemed he had yet to take a shower, considering her was still wearing his hoodie, sans armour. "H-Heh. She found you. Uh… Guys, we're _so_ sorry, I mean, we tried to calm her down when all this happened but Ren was still finishing up in the shower when all this happened and I… guess…" Blue eyes widened slightly when they beheld Team RWBY's tattoos. "N-No way! You got them too?"

Excitedly, the remaining members of Team JNPR filed into RWBY's dorm. Jaune was the first to act, rolling up his hoodie's sleeve to reveal his own tattoo. A sword made up one of the three segments, Ruby noted with an excited gleam in her eyes. The pommel was encircled by a halo and the tip was offset by a V-shaped arc of flames. "No faaaiiiir!" Ruby found herself whining. "You get a flaming sword and I get _thorns_ ," she huffed, absentmindedly grabbing the sheet she'd pulled off and twirling it around her like a makeshift cape.

"Aesthetically pleasing as they are, I still don't quite know what's going on," Pyrrha spoke up with a smile, stepping forward. Her sleepwear – which was basically a dark tank top and red shorts – displayed the tattoo embroidering her shoulder, an odd runic array making up the central segment while two dagger-like tips poked out behind it, one pointing upwards and one pointing downwards. "We were hoping you guys could tell us something about it," she said with a falling expression.

"Especially since Weiss is familiar with arrays like these, given her use of glyphs," Ren said levelly. He didn't even need to roll up a sleeve to display his tattoo – it was etched into the back of his forearm and was quite honestly the weirdest of the lot; three coiling, arching segments that looked like winding rivers stretched towards a central point – almost like three snakes going after the same invisible prey.

Weiss actually seemed to ponder Ren's question. "I don't know…" She mused. "I mean, the hereditary nature of my family's Semblance _could_ at least offer us a few clues. I'm sure we've got some research about symbols, runes and glyphs in the family archives, but…" She looked pensive. "I'd… rather not… Wait! I can contact Winter!" She said suddenly. "Winter read up on glyphs, runes and other symbols before she left to join the military!"

"Hell yeah, that sounds like a source," Yang said with a grin. "And if we're talking external sources here… Thing we could contact dad in the morning?" She asked, turning to Ruby. The little Reaper nodded energetically.

"Yeah! And if we're lucky he could even get us through to Uncle Qrow as well!" She responded.

"Given the nature of symbols and runes," Ren spoke up, "I'm sure the campus library has a ton of tomes and notes on symbolism and their applications as well. I'll head to the library first thing in the morning," he said.

"I'll join you," Blake added. "I… I had an external source, who… He could've helped us, but…" She blinked, almost wearily. "He closed down his store," she said finally. None of Team RWBY bought that explanation – they knew there was likely a deeper story behind that little half-truth – but they didn't bother pushing her. Not in front of others. "I also know the layout," Blake added, just _a bit_ awkwardly. "I know where we'll find the most research."

"It's settled, then," Weiss spoke up finally, prompting everyone in the room to share some variation of an excited smile. "We'll get started on all of this in the morning. However I think our _first_ order of business should be to approach the faculty about this," she said. "Maybe Oobleck. He's clued up on history, so he should be our primary source."

"Professor Goodwitch is also a candidate," Pyrrha added. "She's quite skilled at Aura use and manipulation, and she _does_ know how to help us better our Semblances. Her understanding could also help us figure out what's going on."

"And if all that doesn't help we can go to Ozpin directly!" Ruby added excitedly. "He's _super_ smart, I bet he'll know something!"

That seemed to be a final verdict – the way the decided course of action turned everyone's confusion and wariness into excitement and eagerness seemed to stand testament to that. All around, fingers still gently grazed the inky skin where the tattoos were etched into their bodies – but for the moment, smiles replaced frowned and laughter replaced frantic questioning. The moment was crowned when the four girls of Team RWBY met one another's eyes – two smirked excitedly, one offered a small smile and one, despite looking pensive and rolling her eyes, already surrendered herself to the coming action.

And so, in unison, four fists rose into the air, and an ecstatic holler of " _Banzai!"_ lead to a fit of raucous laughter.

* * *

Despite not even having a body, Rin felt the chill of worry, terror, incomprehension, outrage, frustration and _confusion_ seep into the very spot where she was certain her stomach would have been, and she was quite thankful nobody could hear her breathing in this dark place because she was _quite certain_ said breathing would've been escaping her in ragged heaves. _E-Eight?!_ She cried, thoroughly incensed, thoroughly enraged, and thoroughly _horrified_. _And they… They're friends! L-Look at how close they are! And there's_ _ **eight?!**_ She cried.

" _Ohohoho noooo, Gems. Not eight, not by a long shot."_

For a moment, Rin could do nothing but utter a muted whine, sounding quite similar to a gurgled, drawn out _whaaaaaaaaat_.

" _Hold on to your skirt, Rinny!"_ The Jackass laughed, a broken, hysterical kind of laugh. _"This ride's about to get even wilder and for_ fuck's sake _stop with the 'Jackass' thing already!"_

* * *

"Okay, this just got _way too weird_."

Velvet Scarlatina _really_ wanted to say something along the lines of agreeing with her weary team leader, really she did. This new occurrence was frankly a worrying one – it wasn't every day that special markings just… _randomly appeared_ on four students out of the blue while taking a sliver of their aura in the process. She wanted to muse aloud, make inquiries, maybe even hazard a few guesses as to what on earth was going on. Sadly, Team CFVY had just gotten back from two-day relief effort stint near the outskirts of Mountain Glenn. They'd been busy most of the day, and though they didn't look it from afar (apart from Coco, that was) Velvet could tell they were quite tired by that point.

…Which was _probably_ the reason why nobody was making a fuss about the dark, oddly-pattered tattoos that had suddenly appeared on their skin.

Velvet watched curiously, gauging her teammates' reactions to the weird marks adorning them. Fox sat idly against the headboard of his bed, his fingers lazily tracing the odd swirl of sickle-shaped segments on the back of his hand. His eyes were closed – a sign that the close-combat specialist was in deep thought. Yatsuhashi was also sitting on his bed at the far end of the room, next to hers. He was sitting cross legged, trying to meditate as his back rested against the wall, but Velvet could see the tension in his frame. His tattoo looked outright _weird_ ; three segments as well – something that looked like a weird, tribal effigy of a bird split into three parts. Velvet's own was admittedly quite nice, she thought, tugging the collar of her nightshirt aside to look at the ink smudging the very tip of her collarbone; three rings of petals – a central clump, a small 'middle' ring and a large, blossoming outer ring.

Coco, on the other hand…

Coco looked completely _done_ with it all as she stared at the weird array etched into her bicep. It was a simplistic array, composed of a 'central' gem flanked by two weird, fluttering lines. "You know what? No," the fashionista said, blinking wearily and shaking her head. " _No._ I dunno what this is and I dunno why this is happening but I am _not_ in the right place to deal with this," she huffed irately, slipping in under her covers and wincing slightly as the fabric grazed her inked arm. "There is not enough coffee in all of Vale to make me deal with this now," she mumbled, reaching out and flicking off the light perched on her bedside table. "All in favour of approaching Goodwitch with this in the morning?"

"Yes," Fox replied absently.

"That would be wise," Yatsuhashi murmured his consent.

"I suppose it can wait," Velvet agreed with her team, smiling as she climbed into bed herself. She daintily flicked off her own bedside lamp, shrouding the room in darkness. A part of her was still _really_ concerned with the current developments – but as the warm, comforting confines of her bed started swallowing her, she also realized just how _tired_ the past few days had left her. It was worrying, yes – but at the moment, her fatigue was winning out.

 _Yeah… I suppose it can… wait…_ she thought drowsily, as blissful darkness swallowed her up whole.

* * *

"What do you think it means?"

Emerald Sustrai found herself speaking up before she could stop. The current course of events really creeped her out, and going by the confused, _irked_ expression currently adorning Cinder's face, that worry was only compounded that much more. As it stood, the fiery woman was pacing around their dorm, her burning eyes flickering to the crest _so unlike_ the one on that weird Grimm-glove situated right on the back of her forearm. It was dark, hideous, out of place, and the way Cinder _glared_ at the tattoo that resembled a weird, shield-shaped coat of arms clued Emerald in that this was _not_ a part of their plan – _at all_.

"I've sent word," Cinder spoke frigidly, "to our… employer, along with photographic evidence. If this is to introduce a change in plans, we will know _soon_."

Emerald only nodded in response, cautiously glancing down at her own tattoo, and those of her 'teammates'. From Cinder's coat-of-arms to Mercury's three clawmark-shaped segments, to Neo's seemingly butchered, otherworldly musical notes to her own macabre display of what _looked_ like a segmented heart, this occurrence caught them all with their pants down. The marks looked weird, yet intricate – almost professional, in a way. Which was odd, considering how suddenly – and how _painfully_ – the marks had appeared. "So what do we do now?"

"Now, we make do with what we have," Cinder said summarily, sitting down on her bed and opening her scroll. "Tomorrow you and Mercury will do some investigating – find out if any other students or any of the faculty members received similar markings. Acquire pictures if possible, and see if you can find out the circumstances behind every occurrence you find… and _do not_ let your own etchings be seen, by _anyone_."

The order was alerting, if nothing else. Even Mercury, laid back as he was, managed to pull his eyes off his comic book long enough to shoot Cinder a questioning glance, and for _once_ Neo didn't seem all that smug either – the fact that both her eyes were now a curious brown testified to that. "Could these marks really be so dangerous?" Emerald chanced asking.

Cinder did not even look up from her scroll. She merely raised her arm, flashing the tattoo etched there.

"Whether or not the marks mean anything is irrelevant now," she said with a clipped tone. "What unnerves is that we know nothing about these things – and in our line of work, not knowing is _dangerous_."

* * *

In various other places of Beacon Academy, more sudden influxes of stinging pain interrupted hobbies and free time and in some cases even pulled people from their naps. Team CRDL was awoken by the ruckus of their leader _flying_ into the dorm bathroom, and despite how strained their relations with one another had become, their worries were only compounded when they saw the spatterings of blood lining the burly leader's once immaculate sheets.

In the Staff Cafeteria, a boisterous tale of the progress of the school's warriors and an intellectual contribution to the current state of the students both fell silent as the dull ache set in. Professors Port and Oobleck stopped dead in their tracks, their voicing dying in their throats as the suspicion that something _very wrong_ was happening. In unison they set their mugs down as the backs of their hands shone with a magical glow, and grey eyebrows rose with wonder and amusement as green ones sank into a frown when the respective tattoos finally set in.

"Well," Port said primly, staring at the crest etched into his hand. "This is certainly new."

Oobleck, for once, had nothing to say. He merely swallowed down the foreboding feeling that was now blossoming in his chest.

Elsewhere in Beacon, Glynda Goodwitch sagged down on her bed with a weary sigh. The muted ache in her muscles replayed to her just how active she'd been that day, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't feeling at least a bit tired – more so than usual, given the requirements of her job. Nonetheless, it was looking to be a rare early night for the Professor. Even now steam trailed from the small bathroom attached to her personal quarters, and wearily Glynda reached up, sliding her hand under the collar of her bathrobe to press at the ache that was threatening to bloom in her neck.

At least, she did so until the stinging pain erupted in her shoulder. With a violent hiss, Glynda's hand moved to press against the spot that was burning intently – only for her fingers to graze something wet… and _unusually_ warm.

The veteran Huntress was on her feet in a blink, and the white robe was all but discarded as she barrelled into her bathroom again, frantically ripping a towel from its coaster and wiping away at the fog obscuring the mirror. Her eyes narrowed as they saw what had caused the stinging pain; a mark akin to a tattoo had been carved onto her skin – what looked like a twisted parody of a three-pronged maple leaf, split into two segments, with a stem in the shape of a sword acting as the third.

She frowned as she regarded the odd mark, idly wiping away the trickles of blood with the damp towel in her hands. It stung, yes – the flesh was quite sensitive – but it was nothing she couldn't power through. Even the jolts of pain meant little to her. What _bothered_ her was the suddenness of it all; she had _long_ since unlocked and mastered her own Semblance, so she disregarded this mark being some kind of manifestation thereof right off the bat. Which only _possibly_ left her Aura as the culprit…

With a soft huff, she strode from her bathroom, picking up the discarded robe and redressing herself as she went. She kept her shoulder as exposed as possible, however, and once she reached her bed she diligently retrieved her scroll and quickly snapped an image of the mark adorning the very tip of her collarbone. She would need to speak to her colleagues about this – and soon.

She only barely fought herself from grumbling as she quickly flicked her bedside light on and strode over to the fully-lined bookcases at the far end of her quarters. Her eyes had locked onto the spines of all the Aura reference books and tomes stashed there.

Only distantly in the back of her mind did the veteran Huntress mourn the escape of yet another prospective good night's sleep.

* * *

 _S-Sixteen…_

Rin would've cursed at how shaky her voice sounded as it echoed in the nothingness surrounding her. _Sixteen sets of Command Spells. Sixteen Servants – in an unknown, vastly different world that likely had_ no _countermeasures,_ no _mediators_ , _and_ no _idea what's coming. How did it even come to this?!_

" _That would technically be your fault, Rinny."_

 _W-What? What are you-_

" _You zapped the Grail with that toothpick o' yours remember? Second magic? Colossal fuck up? Any of this ringing a bell?"_

 _But that doesn't explain-_

" _Ohohoho! Wait! But wait! There's more!"_ The Jackass suddenly cried out as the darkness distorted again, and it was only through a _phenomenal_ display of willpower that Rin didn't outright scream with frustration.

* * *

Nighttime airbuses were usually the deserted kind. Very few people in Remnant were so hard-pressed for time that they had to compromise and take a transport that usually did its route through the night. Such transport usually filled their emptiness with an alien sense of abandonment – the speakers rarely blared, the seats were mostly unoccupied, the screens that usually relayed entertainment shows for the masses were now covered only in bare schedules and route charts and the only sound to be heard at any given spot in the colossal airbus was the sound of its engines humming mutedly – a sound that was very rarely heard during the day.

Safely nestled in the confines of a seat hidden in a shadow corner, Qrow Branwen stirred almost fitfully in his sleep. His expression was somewhat soured, as though caught in a bad dream, and his appearance was ragged; his clothing was creased, his hair was dirty and on end, and the stubble lining his face has surpassed 'rugged' and become 'downright dirty' ages ago. An empty flask was clutched in his hand, and the pungent odour of pure alcohol wafted from its rim. Not that a drunken sleep mattered much to a seasoned Huntsman – even asleep he was more aware than most initiates in the academy, enough so that he lazily creaked a bloodshot eye open as he felt the stinging sensation erupt on his forearm. It was dull, muted by the alcohol in his system, but still noticeable. Both his eyes opened as he scanned the empty airbus, straining all of his senses in order to track a possible assailant. But he found none – and if _he_ couldn't find someone, it was likely they were never there in the first place.

With a final bored look at the small red stain blooming on the rolled-up collar of his shirt, Qrow settled back down and returned to his slumber…

…and missed the tattoo of a segmented skull appearing on his arm completely.

Elsewhere in Vale, in the secretive vault nestled beneath the prestigious Beacon Academy, Professor Ozpin, the widely-respected Headmaster, loosed a weary sigh as his fingers tapped away at the console before him. Most of the large chamber was shrouded in darkness, leaving only a beam of light shining down on the contraption he was monitoring now. Wearily, he turned to look at one of the two pods connected to the console, his brow creasing just a hint as his thoughts wandered to the comatose girl resting within – the latest Fall Maiden.

The attack on Amber had been a tragedy, one that had placed the entire cabal he had formed on high alert. It was a never-before seen scenario; lasting aura damage, burn marks that wouldn't heal and a comatose state that simply _could not_ be explained medically or biologically – it was though someone had inflicted a wound on the Maiden's very soul, leaving her life hanging perilously on a knife's edge. Every few nights he would return here to check the feedback on the console – and every night he would leave with greater, bitterer disappointment than the last.

In light of this vast amount of worry, Ozpin felt the surge of panic that flowed through him when Amber's vitals spiked was just a _bit_ justified.

The console bleared to life as various scans ran their course – Amber's heart rate, her blood pressure, her breathing, _everything_ shot sky-high as the various programs and windows on the console went _crazy_ – and much to Ozpin's overwhelming shock, he heard a low groan of pain emanate from within the pod. Quickly he initiated the built in procedures to try and stabilize the girl, and as they ran their course he rushed over to the side of the pod. A sudden burning sensation _erupted_ along his right arm, and he could _feel_ the blood seeping into his shirt's sleeve – there was even a trickle running down the back of his hand and between his fingers – but currently the headmaster could not _afford_ to care about that. With quivering breaths he stopped at the pod, and gazed through the glass opening – and his eyes widened at what he saw.

Amber's eyes were fluttering, as though she was struggling to awaken – and along each curve of her collarbone, two glowing lights were shining; one large and bright, one small and dim.

Ozpin beheld the spectacle, heedless of the blood dripping from under his sleeve, speechless as he watched the lights dance across the pod's glass, shimmering almost hypnotically, and all the while Amber writhed and squirmed where she lay, those fluttering eyelids trying _so hard_ to pry themselves open – but failing to do so at all.

Finally the light died down – and to Ozpin's immense disappointment, so did Amber's struggling. It seemed a terrible thing to think, in all honestly, but he had been hoping for a miracle since Amber was admitted into this contraption, and just when it seemed on the brink of happening… it slipped away. Ozpin merely shook his head. He supposed it was too much to hope for, after all. Instead he decided to study the new markings engraved on Amber's chest. They both formed archaic, almost ancient displays; one was large, easily stretching from the middle of her clavicle to the edges of her shoulder. It was… a wild-looking thing, all thorns and swirls and arches neatly split into three segments. The other one was smaller, more orderly, easier to identify; the first segment was a crown like structure. In between its two raised prongs sat a star – and topping said star was a figure that seemed like a traditional display of a teardrop.

Ozpin frowned as he tried to recall if he'd seen any of the markings before, both from experience and from texts and records. Certainly, some Maidens of the past sported tattoos of their own – but those were always naturally made, they didn't just… _appear_ out of nowhere, and much to Ozpin's frustration, just trying to 'remember' brought nothing to the fore. He'd have to delve into the records of the past maidens again, he thought – he'd need to pull up as much information and imagery of them as possible to see whether this was something related to them.

 _But first…_

With a weary sigh, he walked back to the console. Already the various reports were printing and already he could make out the words that had, by now, become almost tediously repetitive – large-printed phrases like [CONDITION STABLE] and [RATES NOMINAL] adorned it. Almost instinctively he grabbed the printed pages and placed them next to the keyboard before shrugging his coat off. His eyes narrowed when he saw the splotches of red lining his sleeve and he quickly rolled it up, intent on gauging the extent of the sudden wound – only to pause, his eyes widening in shock for the first time in a _long_ while.

For there, lining his forearm, were three sets of the same tattoos that now adorned Amber's chest.

Three sets of three segments each.

Three were spindly, looking almost ancient and digital at the same time as they wove around his wrist like three bracelets. In the middle of his forearm sat an encircled crest of three perfectly intersected spheres, forming something akin to a clover, and finally, near his elbow, sat a jagged mess of lines more resembling fighting serpents than anything else. And amidst all of these engravings, speckles of blood littered his arm.

Ozpin's eyes narrowed as he gazed back towards Amber's pod. Suddenly those markings took on a whole new meaning – and the Headmaster somehow found himself thinking that perhaps, the answers he was suddenly seeking wouldn't be found in the records of previous Maidens at all. Sombrely he turned back and glared at the tattoos now adorning his harm.

 _This… just took a turn for the sinister…_

* * *

Miles away, in the kingdom of Atlas, Winter Schnee was personally conducting an examination of her assigned transport. It was less a sense of perfectionism and more a sense of protocol, of _discipline_ ; she was responsible for the vessel and its crew, and thus it should fall to her to be absolutely certain that it was in perfect flying order, and that it was primed in such a way that as few problems as possible would crop up during the flight.

She'd already inspected the cargo hold, the quarters, the armaments, the battle stations and the cantina – she even briefly studied what the engineers and the mechanics were doing to the crafts more technical areas, and now she found herself in the last place left to inspect: the cockpit. Already she'd brought up the varying diagnostics and reports and she'd just finished going over the various status screens after ordering a routine startup.

She was in the process of checking the restraints when she paused, _hissing_ slightly as a sharp pain flared to life on the back of her hand. With a grunt she paused, elegantly biting down on the finger of her glove and pulling it off with a dainty tug, only to pause in wonder as she saw the cause of her pain:

A tattoo – and an absolutely hideous one at that; it seemed like some kind of dagger or short sword – possibly a gladius? - surrounded by three pairs of angelic-looking wings. The suddenness of its appearance, and the almost muddy hue of its colouring, however, only made those wings seem more abnormal.

For a moment, Winter could only pause and stare.

"…what on earth…?"

And on the other side of the kingdom, nestled cozily within his office in one of the largest mansions in all of Atlas, Sigmund Schnee – patriarch of the Schnee family – paused, and irritated scowl crossing his features as his pen stopped gliding across the report situated before him. His immaculate moustache twitched with ire as the backs of his hands started to ache dully, and his arctic eyes narrowed when he saw the bright lights shining there. With a grunt he set the pen down and pushed the report aside, and raised his hands to get a better look at whatever was happening. Absentmindedly two glyphs formed over the blazing lights, releasing a chill into his hands that made the dull ache dissipate quickly.

Soon enough, the lights died down – and the Schnee family head's frown only deepened as he saw the tattoos that had been carved into flesh. They resembled his glyphs – each a snowflake-shaped marking comprised of three layers; a small flake in the middle, surrounded by a slightly larger flake, which was finally encompassed by the boundary glyph.

It was odd. Unprecedented, even. Never in the history of his family had such a thing happened. The Schnee patriarch was quite capable of weaving his own glyphs into one another – Winter herself was quite capable of such an act as well, so the _appearance_ itself wasn't the abnormality. What bothered the elder Schnee was the fact that _those_ glyphs were part of the Semblances; manifestations of their souls' power, and thus, _temporary_.

These glyphs on his hands, however, seemed anything _but_ temporary.

His eyes narrowed, and with a grunt he rose from his chair.

The annual reports and financial feedback could wait until another time, he reckoned. And if all else failed, well, he _did_ employ a secretary for a reason. For now, he had more pressing matters to deal with.

It was time to delve back into the Schnee family's history again.

* * *

For the first time since awakening in this pressing darkness, for the first time in a long, _long_ while, she reckoned, Rin Tohsaka was rendered completely and utterly speechless. This was a nightmare, she thought – a bad dream, a sorrow-induced hallucination. The result of a potion or an elixir gone wrong, even, _anything!_ Anything, any _logical_ explanation and even some _illogical_ ones were better, more _bearable_ than accepting that the horrifying things she was seeing now were _real_.

That nameless, comatose girl in the pod had been given two sets of Command Spells. _Two_. A feat reserved only for the greatest of magi where she was from and _here_ it was bestowed upon a girl who couldn't _stay alive_ without crude medical equipment! And to make matters worse the _exact same honour_ had been bestowed upon some obviously noble man with a horrid-looking moustache up in the frigid north. The old bastard didn't even look _awed_ – instead he merely looked annoyed!

And… And…

That silver-haired man in the vault, who was monitoring the comatose wonder-girl…

Rin _felt_ a shudder rock her to her very core this time, even if she didn't have a body. Three Command Spells, she thought sombrely. Three potential Servants…

 _I'm in a nightmare,_ she finally decided, _wishing_ she had a physical form just so she could wrap her arms around herself, pinch herself awake – anything to make these sights stop. _That has to be it. I'm in a nightmare…_

" _Hate to break this to you, Gems, but you're really not,"_ the disembodied voice echoed around her again. " _And look! No more Jackass! Again! D'awww you really_ do _care. Anyway, Rinny, you really need to sit up and smell the carnage here. These things you're seeing? They're real, woman, and they're happening_ right fucking now _. There is a shitstorm of_ godly _proportions heading towards this world, Rinny –_ especially _if the Grail's interpretation for an 'eternal war' leads to natural animosity between Servants."_

 _But what if it does?!_ Rin asked, not even _bothering_ to hide her panic any more. Grail Wars were messes waiting to happen, and that was _with_ the proper supervision and secrecy. Here in this world, however, neither existed, which meant that if the Grail's granted wish of an 'eternal war' between Servants was going to come true, then –

" _Incoming, Rinny,"_ the voice sounded in the darkness around her again, and once more the darkness distorted, leaving Rin with only a frustrated, desperate cry of _'More?!'_ as it did so.

* * *

In the heart of the Grimmlands, in a stretch of land bathed in an eternal bloody hue, where the shattered moon above stood partially obscured by thick clouds of murky black, a hiss echoed in the deserted plains. It was a sharp sound, shrill and pained, one that only grew in intensity as it travelled across the tainted land, flowing in between the rising spires of tainted dust and towering crystal and parting the fog as it went. It was a barren land, a tainted land – one devoid of even the slightest touch of human influence.

It was at the highest point of these nightmarish plains that the hiss had originated from. At the 'crown' of the Grimmlands, a vaguely humanoid figure was hunched forwards, grimacing in pain as she hugged herself, trying to remain upright. The pain racking her body was near-excruciating; it was something she hadn't felt in a long, _long_ time, and by now the unfamiliar ache was almost alien to her. Nonetheless, she persevered as the pain flared up her arms and across her chest, and she gritted her teeth as she felt what was obviously blood dribbling down her arms. As the burning agony assailed her, she was quickly and diligently analysing what was happening, and trying to piece together what could _possibly_ cause her such immense pain so suddenly…

…but almost as abruptly as it had started, the pain vanished.

And with that action, the being known as Salem only felt greater confusion – and even _greater_ ire.

With a heave of breath she straightened up, ignoring how the blood made her dress cling to her chest. Her hands were sticky with blood as she finally straightened her arms, and her mounting frustration and outrage only grew when she saw the swathes of black staining her hands. Balefully she rose her arms – and nearly _stopped dead_ as she what had caused the bleeding:

Tattoos. _Marking_ , engraved into her very skin. They seemed to snake from her wrists all the way up to her shoulders, and they were of such a dark colour, the murky veins that lined her alabaster arms seemed to be _weaving_ into them. The etchings had a jagged pattern to them – like the edge of a saw, or a row of serrated fangs, and they split into three parts on every arm; one from her wrist to her elbow, one on the elbow proper, and one ranging from her elbow to her shoulder.

Crimson eyes narrowed dangerous. _That means…_

With a vicious growl, the woman's hands shot up, and black claws sprouted from her fingertips. They hooked into the fabric of her dress and _tore_ , and kept tearing until every bit of bloodstained fabric was naught but a string on the ground around her. What remained of the dress' torso threatened to slip from her shoulders, but the woman found herself unable to care. She merely fumed, as she beheld a third engraving; this one more unique, more orderly… more _unnatural_. What looked to be a trail of smog crept from the tip of one clavicle down to the dip of her collarbone, splitting off before another sludge trail started anew and crept up her other clavicle before abruptly stopping at its tip. The murky 'V' was topped by a swirling mass of smoke – and the entire array was covered in flecks and trails of blood that seemed to shine in the moonlight.

Unnatural, she though.

Unforeseen.

 _Unknown_.

And unknown, in her opinion, was _unacceptable_.

With a low growl, she turned on her heel and stalked off deeper into the crown of the Grimmlands. _Something_ about these markings left an unpleasant feeling lingering within Salem's being – like a weight suddenly pressing down on her shoulders. She was concerned, she realized with a murderous expression.

And Salem _never_ left her concerns unaddressed.

* * *

Even the despair had passed at this stage. Despite trying her best not to lose her spark, Rin felt absolutely, utterly defeated. She still could not remember much about her mission – only that Zelretch was somehow involved – but even _that_ man, with all his eccentricity, would never go _this_ far… would he? This… This _clusterfuck_ couldn't _possibly_ have been the grand goal of her assignment! Why would she have been sent… _wherever_ she was sent if not to _avert_ something like this happening? An eternal war between Servants… The very prospect thereof made her heart sink. _The wish registered here, didn't it?_ She asked, downtrodden. _No matter what we do, it's going to happen… Were those all the Masters? Or are the more?_

"… _There are more,"_ the voice responded, for once not sounding smug or delighted or aloof or unsympathetic or _any_ of those improper, unfitting emotions. " _We're currently at thirty-one assigned Command Spells… and counting."_

 _Thirty-one and counting…_ Rin parroted, tasting bile despite lacking an actual throat at that moment. _…How did this happen… What do we do?!_

" _There's nothing we_ can _do, Gems,"_ the voice responded, and once again Rin noticed a hint of boredom and exasperation had crept into his manner. The undertone served only to make the disembodied magus more furious. " _The wish was granted, and the only way to stop it – in other words, destroying me and this little container we're trapped in – got botched by a_ certain someone _, so instead it ended up here. That's. It. Wish was made, wish was granted, wish is now being put into effect and unless you plan on making a body for yourself out of nothing and chewing your way outta here, you ain't gonna stop it, Rinny."_

 _So what, we just sit back and do nothing?!_ Rin retorted hotly. _How can you be so careless about all this?_ You _had a hand in this goddammit! People could_ die _!_

" _Yeah, and? What's the problem? People are assholes anyway, and I bet my muddy little placenta here that this world is no different,"_ the Jackass responded. " _Aw come on. We doing the whole 'Jackass' thing again?"_

 _Yes! Yes we are, you heartless bastard!_ Rin seethed. _I… I don't know_ where _we are and I don't know_ how _much different this place is, or how it works or what_ anything _means now but I'm pretty damn sure a Grail War_ isn't _these people's fight!_

" _Shoulda thought o' that before you botched the temporal pooper then, eh?"_ The Jackass responded glibly, and Rin could have sworn that at this point her heart would be hammering in her chest and her blood would have been _boiling_ if she still had a physical vessel. " _Listen, Gems-"_

 _No!_ Rin thought, deliberately interrupting the Jackass so she didn't have to listen to any more of the fiend's careless prattling. _There has to be_ something _I can do. There has to… be…_ She trailed off, calming down as remembrance ran its course. _The Magus…_

" _Say what now? You'll have to speak up, I can't hear you over all that angst-"_

 _The Magus from earlier!_ Rin interrupted again. _The one you said had traces of Grail Taint on him! He turned into that bird and flew off to… Vale, was it? I… If he really had traces of Grail Taint on him that means he was present when… when everything went wrong!_ She said quickly. _He must_ at least _know what the Holy Grail War is all about and if he does, the he could teach the people! He could tell them how dangerous it is, maybe organize a defence or a counter-measure of sorts with this world's authorities!_

" _What, you're just assuming that Magus bloke was one o' the Good Guys, Rinny?"_ the voice asked sceptically. _"He got gored in the side by something, remember? Did it ever occur that_ maybe _he was a bigger bastard than me and that he deserved that shanking?"_

… _Yes,_ Rin admitted lowly after a while. _Yes, I… I'm possibly being foolish by so hastily believing this. I… I'm being a lot like… someone I used to know, I think, and for some reason that's making me feel_ really frustrated _with myself. The word 'idiot' keeps ringing in my mind, over and over, and… I'm sure it's not directed at me,_ she spoke truthfully, spiritually squirming in discomfort as memories tried and failed to return to her. _But… As it stands now… This is the last sliver of hope. If that Magus is really sinister, then…_

" _Then everything's about to get butt-pumped. Yeah, I know."_

Rin noticed the little pause at the end of the voice's answer –as though it desperately wanted to add a tail to the reply, but refrained from doing so. _Yes,_ she instead confirmed. _I'm stuck here, with you, and this world is about to face a conflict of immense magnitude. I… I need to hope that Magus was one of the righteous ones. I need to cling to that hope. Because otherwise… if what you say to me is true…_ She hesitated. _Then every casualty experienced in this war will be my fault._

For a moment, a pregnant pause lingered between them – one that seemed to make the darkness around her seem downright _oppressive_ – before finally, with a tremendous groan, the voice responded again.

" _For_ fuck's _sake, I'm gonna get bored if you get all mopey again. And you were so fun too… Okay, Rinny, tell ya what: I'll keep my fingers crossed with you. Because hey, fun as destruction is, it only stays fun until everything's_ dead _and then it's just boring. So, y'know, yeah. Maybe the whole struggle between good and evil thing could be entertaining as well. If nothing else it'll be entertaining seeing Servants getting their shit fucked after talking big game."_

For a long while, Rin was stunned silent. She cleared her throat, however, and despite lacking the organ the _sound_ of it seemed to ring across the darkness. _Y-You really mean that?_

" _Yeah, why not,"_ the voice responded with an audible shrug. _"Let's see what batting for the winners' team is like for once, and all that sycophantic bullshit. Because like I said, Rinny: Destruction's only fun until everything's dead,"_ it said whimsically, before speaking up for a final time.

" _So let's hope that Magus of yours is a good bloke, okay? If only so it'll keep your spirits up because hey; you're fun to tease. You should probably get your skirt ready so you can hold on to it, though."_

Rin blinked owlishly at that statement. ' _Hold on to my skirt'? Prepare myself?_

" _Aye, prepare yourself, Gems,"_ the voice responded ominously. " _Because no matter what your little Magus' alignment is: There still ain't no words to describe just how_ fucked _this world's gonna get soon."_

* * *

 **Post-Chapter AN:** **Aaaand we're done! Quite lengthy for a prologue, aye, but it's quite short by my standards. Anyway, let's get a few things addressed real quick here.**

 **A) I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing here. Literally - some of the deeper mechanics of the Nasuverse elude me so I'm just throwing things at the wall and hoping it all sticks. I did say this was going to be my 'fun' story, something to veer me away from how dark Strength of an Honest soul is going to get - so by all accounts I'm writing this purely for fun and joy - fun and joy I hope you all can share in.**

 **B) What Servants are gonna appear? A *lot* of them, taken from every franchise. Stay Night, Zero, Apocrypha, Grand Order, Prototype, Strange Fake - you name it; this is in an eternal war, people, and a lot of Servants are going to appear - and possibly die horribly but hey, that's the purpose of a Grail War, innit? EDIT 18/04/2016: There may have been a slight misconception here, as a few good Samaritans informed me via PMs. When I said this story is going to be "lighter and softer" I did not mean it's going to be all sunshine and rainbows; this *is* an F/SN crossover, after all -I merely meant I was not going to pull a George R.R Martin like the franchises in question did. Volume 3 is still gonna happen, and it's gonna be quite the doozy - as will all the arcs afterwards be - but I'm not going for the whole "Grim grim, dark dark, angst angst" approach here. **

**I'm not that Urobutcher bloke, after all.**

 **C) Rin Tohsaka, and "The Voice": At this point you probably realized the two canon characters from Fate are a wee bit different. Angra? Well, the origin of Angra's newfound kookyness is going to be addressed later in the series. It's a pseudo-relevant plot-point, after all. As for Rin: I also can't say much without spoiling. What I can confirm is that yes, this is an older, wiser, more mature Rin and yes, she does hail from an 'alternate' UBW timeline.**

 **That... is probably it, yes. As always, a massive word of thanks to Unseen Lurker for being an epic sounding board and second opinion, who literally helped forge this story from a lump of raw iron.**

 **And a massive word of thanks to you, dear readers, for pushing this far! I can only hope that I didn't disappoint with this prologue, and that you'll hopefully stay along for the ride, because really: This one's going to be massive. Bigger than any of my other stories, I can guarantee that much.**

 **So with all of that said and done, once more, thanks for reading!**

 **Adieu!  
-Chaos**


	2. Chapter 2

**Pre-Chapter A/N:** **Well... I can't get the feeling that nothing I say will do much to alleviate the awkwardness here.  
**

 **It's... been a while, I guess?**

 **Heh. As always, you'll find a metric ton of apologies and excuses in the post-chapter A/N - as well as a few explanations and most importantly, some insight regarding a Poll! I won't keep you waiting much longer, though - I hope you enjoy the read!**

 **Side Note #1: I realize there are certain... _mechanics_ from the Nasuverse that appear unnatural and/or wonky in this chapter - this was deliberate. More on this in the post-chapter A/N!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 1  
Advent of the Gallant**

She had _long_ ago found out the harshest of truths regarding the Holy Grail that Magi would often dedicate countless amounts of resources and manpower towards obtaining. Her flickers of memory were few and far and in-between in this vast, oppressive darkness around her, but there was one constant she could recall with absolute clarity, one factor of life she had solidly proven across the span of years doing… _work_ , that she could only vaguely remember. Countless times she had encountered it, on the cusp of granting that tantalizing wish as reward to the magus that managed to complete the ritual. And every single time it had been the same old story:

The Holy Grail that the magi so relentlessly pursued was _tainted_.

What was once certainly an indescribable treasure, a testament to the might of the world of magi that could grant any wish to the deserving victor, who had weathered a war between spirits of an absolutely _phantasmal_ nature, was now nothing but a wicked, evil husk of what it was meant to be… all because one group of magi were _not content_ with the already perfect system that had been put in place. No, they had to go and play Sorcerer, try and twist the Grail to their own needs in a bid for a guaranteed victory.

All The World's Evil.

That was what inhabited the Grail now, she had learned. That was what inhabited _every single Grail_ she had ever come across in her life.

She had never once actually _seen_ All The World's Evil unleashed. She had only _ever_ seen either that which came before, and that which came after; the black mud that devoured all in its path, wreaking havoc and destruction as the chaos of the Grail War fuelled its one, true, _corrupted_ purpose. She had felt the aura of wrongness and dread and horridness and _blackness_ that permeated the air around the manifestation of the wicked thing. But never once had she actually tried to gaze _inside_ it. She had destroyed every Grail she had ever come across.

Until now, that was.

Truthfully speaking, Rin had been reluctantly entertaining the idea that she was somehow… 'inside' the Corrupted Grail she had supposedly tried to destroy for quite a while now. There were several clues – the palpable darkness surrounding her, the fact that she'd actually been granted sight of multiple places in this odd new world, sights of such quality they could honestly count as _clairvoyant_ at times. More than once, even, this disembodied Jackass inhabiting the nothingness around her consciousness had dropped not-so-subtle hints that he was the mastermind behind everything Grail War-related, even going as far as to reveal things about the catastrophic war that brought them here with attention to detail that _no_ mere Master could be able to recall. All of these factors could count as damning evidence that her theory was correct…

But as she sat there _seething with rage_ in the middle of the oppressive, palpable darkness, Rin Tohsaka childishly thought that the most irrefutable proof this this 'nothingness' being the confines of the corrupted Grail was the fact that she was _quite damn certain_ she was experiencing 'All The World's Evils' _right bloody now_ because _this Jackass absolutely bloody refused to_ _ **shut his fu-**_

"… _loOOovE Me tENdeE~eeR, LovE MEeE sWEEe~eeet; nEeeVEEeeEEeeR Let mE gOOOooo~ yOu hAAaa~aAve MAde mY LiiiiiiFEe cOMplEe~eTe…_ "

For the umpteenth time Rin found herself wishing, _so_ desperately, that she still had a physical, corporeal form so she could _do something_ , do _anything_ , to help her weather this auditory _Armageddon_. She wished she could cover her ears, shake her head, wave her fists at the absolute _bastard_ who was doing this – " _Aww, thanks Rinny!"_ she heard in the distance – or smash her palm into her face or claw her scalp or _anything_ just to draw her attention away from _everything_ that was starting to mount up. Here she sat, disembodied, likely in the confines of the container holding All The World's Evils at bay, in a strange world that she quite possibly had _damned_ to playing host to an eternal Holy Grail War, and this _bastard_ –

"… _lOOOooOVe MeEEe~ tENDer, lOVe mE lOOooOo~oOONg; TaAAaa~aAakE meEEe To yOUr heEeAAaa~rRrT! fOr iiIIiit's tHEre THaT I~ bELoOOo~ng – aAAAand wE'Ll nEVer PaAaARt!"_

It wasn't just singing. 'Just singing' would not have echoed in whatever amounted to her sense of hearing in this void, it would not have made her _shiver_ and _cringe_ despite not even having the body to do so. 'Just singing' would not have annoyed her in the slightest – no, what _infuriated_ Rin was how this particular singing accounted to _auditory murder_. The Jackass' singing voice couldn't even be called a _voice –_ it was as though the sounds of _war and carnage_ were coming together to form words accompanied by off-key notes and _horridly shrill_ pitches. Every high note sounded like the screech of steel on steel, and the rending of stone under force, and every _low_ note was akin to dull, hollow explosion in the distance, one that echoed in that chilling manner than managed to _stick_ to your thoughts. "Words made of War" was not an under-simplifying way of describing it – and the part that angered her most of all was the fact that the Jackass was doing this _purely to annoy her_ because she had taken to ignoring his inane questions.

How many songs had he sung by now? A hundred, possibly? It had been easy to ignore at first – at first it was normal singing. Yes, obviously those 'Disney Classics' he was so fond of were a bit grating at first but at least she could weather those. Then… Then this nightmare started. Taunting her in this way, and making her consciousness in this place damn near unbearable, simply because she refused to talk to him… Just how childish could this _Jackass_ be?!

"… _lOVe meEEEe~eee tENdeR, loVE me DeEEeaaAa~aAAr; tELl mEEEee YoU arE miiii~iiiine! I'lL bE yOURs thRouGh_ _ **aAAAaaA~aaLLlll**_ _the yEaRS – till tHEEee eNd of tiIIIii~iiiiiMEe!"_

 _Please, no,_ Rin thought petulantly. An _unspecified_ amount of time stuck in the nothingness with this obtuse moron was already threatening to drive her mad – she shuddered to think what 'until the end of time' would do to her. No doubt she'd be as mad as he was – and _that_ thought horrified her to no end. Oddly, though, she noticed that it had fallen silent in the darkness just then; no humming, no chaotic, unholy singing, not even a jaunty whistle that sounded like fracturing ice. Just… _silence_. As though the Jackass had _finally_ gotten the hint.

For the longest while, this silence persisted – _at long last_ – as both parties involved waited for some form of response from the other. Far from naïve, Rin waited anxiously for the bastard to start singing again because if she were being honest, if he started _again_ she might break and stop ignoring him – if only to scream at him and hurl expletives at him and _curse his name_. How was it even possible for a disembodied spirit to feel exhausted? It was as though her core just sort of… _fell away_ when the Jackass had stopped singing. Had it really been so long since he'd started with that… that… She wouldn't dare _trying_ to call that auditory monstrosity 'singing' anymore. Now, though… Now only weariness remained. At least, it had, until –

" _Aaaaa, that was refreshing as fuck. That era had the fuckin'_ _ **best**_ _music."_ The Jackass' voice was still as chipper as it had been God alone knew how long ago, as though the constant unholy sounds that had been pouring from his mouth hadn't even scratched his throat. Seemed he wasn't going to shut up after all… A foolish hope, Rin realized, but all she had at this point was hope; hope and patience – and the latter was quickly wearing thin. " _And might I say, Gems, that little heartfelt number had this 'kicked puppy' look going in your soul. I could see it, yanno. Almost like_ you're _the one who needs tender lovin'. Well, do ya? Do ya need some tee-el-cee? Say, you wanna cuddle? I bet you wanna cuddle. I bet you're a cuddle-bug. Heheheh."_

Maybe if she _tried_ to glare hard enough this bastard would feel it. With a sigh, though, she finally gave in. ' _No, Jackass. No, I don't want to cuddle,'_ she said honestly. And then she lied: ' _And no, I'm not a 'cuddle-bug' either.'_

" _HAH! She speaks! Joy of joys!"_ The Jackass cheered. " _ **Knew**_ _my serenades would get a few words out of you. My singing skills are 'good' with a capital B, yanno."_ Suddenly Rin regretted speaking up _very, very_ much. " _Ay! That's not nice! And I sang such nice songs for you. I bet if the Adorable Kook were here_ _ **she'd**_ _appreciate my singing. But she's not here. Because… yanno… you murdered her. Cruelly at that, shit woman, who goes around lighting other people's heads on fire?"_ He berated her. _"Alas, and she was so adorable too. Too good for this sinful world! Taken from us by the machinations of a wicked witch in red!"_

 _Don't rise to it,_ Rin told herself, and she imagined that it would be at this point that she would have sighed wearily if she still could. _Don't rise to it, don't think about it, just… move on._ ' _Just… Ugh. Have you thought of anything that could help us achieve something meaningful? Like going back to your world, or stopping this war?'_

" _Nope,"_ the Jackass replied flippantly. He almost sounded distracted.

This time Rin _did_ sigh. Or at least, she made a sound akin to one. Just so she could hear it. ' _You've been capable of seeing into this world and learning about it for who knows how long,'_ she started, sounding more and more fatigued with every syllable, ' _and you chose not to… Why?!'_ She finished dryly.

" _Uhm… I've been busy? Yanno, serenading you? Fuck, you forgotten about that already? Shit Rinny, those came from the bottom of my cold dead heart. That… That's hurtful, Rinny,"_ he said with a thick voice. " _That hurts. Wow. You can be such a bitch at times."_

 _Ignore it,_ she told herself, despite the rage starting to boil at her core. Yes, she was _pissed_ at the fact that this _son of a bitch_ had been doing nothing but pestering her when he still had a whole world to learn about but getting angry now would solve nothing. She had no body, thus no magic, and as far as she could tell she was frozen in place, not even completely disembodied in this nothingness, and she had nothing but her words at her disposal – against a foe who quite literally couldn't care how hurtful her words were, no matter how much the bastard claimed otherwise. _Ignore it. Ignore it. Getting angry now will damage nobody but yourself. Ignore i-_

" _No, you know what?_ _ **You're**_ _going on my Naughty List. Bad Santa's gonna be a dick to you, missy. Guess who's getting black keys for Christmas this year? Her name starts with 'R'. And she wears red. And she's a bitch. Also doomed a world to a never-ending Grail War which is a_ _ **special**_ _kind of fucked-up and oh, did I mention she's a bitc-_

' _ **Will you just –**_ _ugh!'_ The fact that Rin, even in the midst of disembodiment, felt so _exhausted_ she couldn't even get angry at the Jackass' constant taunting, spoke volumes of her current emotional state – or _lack thereof_ , she would've guessed. For what felt like _days_ this… this _thing_ that was supposed to be none other than Angra Mainyu himself was doing its utmost to taunt and pester and _enrage_ her and… loathe as she was to admit it, it worked; to such an extent Rin was rather certain she was beyond all three points. ' _What,'_ she asked, _seethed_ , even, ' _do you even_ _ **want**_ _? What is it about me that fascinates you_ so bloody much _that you'd play the act of such a child? Whatever happened to 'batting for the winners' team', huh? Did you forget that? Are you a complete idiot?!'_

" _D'awww you say the_ nicest _things,"_ came the flippant reply – and once again Rin found the wind knocked completely out of her sails. It was to be expected, honestly, that a Jackass who had such skill in _pissing her off_ would be difficult to piss off in turn.

' _Just…'_ She started, before trailing off. ' _Please tell me you're joking.'_

" _Joking about what?"_ The Jackass responded, sounding – much to Rin's frustration – honestly curious. " _I kinda told you a few times now there's nothing I can do from here. I mean yeah, technically I was_ supposed _to manifest when the Adorable Kook made her wish – y'know, before you_ murdered her _you fucking psycho,"_ he said, drawing another pained groan from Rin. " _But then the Kook's wish kicked in and, well, I can't exactly churn out a fuckton of Servants if I'm waltzing around outside the Grail now can I? Ain't it a bitch."_

' _Why_ didn't _you manifest, though?'_ Rin asked tiredly. ' _That's how it's always worked. Successful wishes to the tainted Grail more often than not end up bringing you into creation, don't they? So why are you stuck in here? It's not as though the Second Magic has sealing capabilities, does it?'_

" _Murphy is why I'm stuck here, Rinny,"_ The Jackass responded glibly. " _That sunovabitch is more spiteful than a vengeful red-clad she-witch who goes around lighting Adorable Kooks' heads on fire, nyeheheh."_

Again, she found herself sighing aloud. The sound, she realized, brought her a modicum of comfort in this nothingness. An affirmation of sorts, that she was still here and decidedly not mad. ' _Just… Just what do you want?'_ She asked hopelessly. ' _What_ could _you even want? You're Angra bloody Mainyu and –'_

No sooner had she spoken the words when a downright _overdramatic_ gasp of surprise silenced her. It was as though something were deliberately trying to suck in all the air in the darkness around her; it was a long, drawn-out, pathetically put-upon sound more akin to a fat animal dying than an actual gasp of shock. At one point the Jackass even paused, caught his breath – and continued making the dreadful sound. Finally it died down as well – and in the dead silence that followed came a single whisper, one that would have sounded outright _panicked_ if it weren't so deliberately over-the-top:

" _How-did-you-know-that?!"_

…

…

… _Stay calm,_ she told herself with a soothing inner tone. _He's just trying to rile you up. 'It wasn't hard to figure out, Jackass. You've been dropping hints all the while, and I've found out you were tainting the Grail_ long _ago. It doesn't take an Ancestor to put two and two together and come up with 'The asshole who's taunting me is All The World's Evils,'_ she said glibly… before allowing herself a tiny (spiritual, of course) smile. ' _You also didn't jump to deny it.'_

" _Wha-wha-what are you-_ _ **Curses!**_ _"_ the Jackass hollered, his voice thundering across the dark void. " _And I hid it so well too! Woe!_ _ **Woe**_ _is me! Manipulated into releasing vital information by a vile, rickety old Kook-murdering wi-"_

' _ **Enough**_ _about the Kook already!'_ Rin snapped, before reigning in what little of her temper had slipped. By now it had proven futile to try and _rage_ this bastard into submission. Honestly speaking, _any_ type of submission from it seemed more than unlikely; it seemed downright _impossible_. The Stubborn Game was something Rin knew she excelled at – a fragment of a memory from life told her as much. But here and now, with a world hanging in the balance? It was unwise to be stubborn now. So instead… ' _Just… Just tell me what you want already, Angra,'_ she said, extending the metaphorical olive branch. No, a compromise was _not_ submission from her end – not at all. ' _What are you trying to goad out of me?'_

For a while longer, silence reigned, before a mad cackle echoed across the darkness. " _I totally won. Totally. Who's the man? I… am… not, apparently. Shit. I keep forgetting I'm technically some kind of god._ _ **Oh well!**_ _"_ He finished loudly, cutting off any reply Rin might have had. " _Now don't tense up for this, a'ight? What I'm about to tell you is about to blow your_ fucking _mind, more than even mind-blowing sex could blow it, and trust me,_ that _shit is mind-blowing because hey, why else would they call it mind-blowing se-"_

' _You know,'_ Rin cut him off, her tone tired and strained – perfectly masking the deviousness hidden there. She'd opted to try a _different_ approach. ' _With how you're carrying on, it sounds like you don't want to 'blow my mind' at all…'_

" _Wha-? No, no, of course I d-ohohohoho, sneaky little_ _ **Rinny**_ _!"_ The Jackass' voice went from shocked to confused to relieved to elated quicker than Rin could even identify the emotions in his inflection. " _Using that reverse psych bullshit on me, clever girl, clever girl. Heh. Anyway! Hold on to your tits-oh wait, those have got_ no _grip, uh…"_ He trailed off, deliberately oblivious to the way Rin _hissed_ at the perceived insult. " _Hold on to your skirt, Rinny, because here's what I want right now."_

'… _Yes?'_ Rin chanced asking.

' _I waaaaaant…'_ The Jackass spitefully drew the syllable out, leaving a barren silence hanging in the darkness. Idly Rin wondered if Angra had any physical control over this void, because in the wake of his silence followed an _oppressive pressure_ that seemed to squeeze at the very core of her being. At long last, however, the Bastard spoke, and revealed his wish; a wish that quite neatly took the wind out of Rin's sails _again_.

" _I want a friend."_

Silence reigned.

Had she not felt so _exhausted_ at that moment, Rin would honestly have thought her lack of anger, frustration or vexation at the rather underwhelming reveal meant that something was _seriously wrong_ , because a tiny part of her _really_ wanted to get mad at this Jackass for letting such _idiotic_ reasoning factor into his constant taunting. For a moment, she even thought the bastard was still messing with her, trying to push her buttons and drive her into another long-winded tirade about how he was an asshole with nothing better to do than mess with a disembodied woman – even though that tirade had obviously grown ineffectual by the third time she'd used it in this godforsaken nothingness. So instead of getting _apocalyptically_ pissed off at the moron's childishness, instead of skipping right past "blind, seething hatred" and right into that sugary-sweet, innocent "Everything is _not okay_ and I will hurt you soon" persona she recalled using so frequently, all that Rin could muster at that point was an exhausted:

'… _Are you fucking serious?'_

" _Hell yes, I'm fucking serious!"_ The Jackass – Angra, she reminded herself – responded, his tone one of elation and joy at a prospect of… Rin honestly didn't want to know what twisted, demented thoughts made this bastard _happy_ at not being scolded. " _And you see, I would have had a friend too! Remember the Kook's wish? '_ I want to see them all!' _It was a perfect setup, yanno? I'd gobble her up like the adorable little munchkin she was and she'd wake up in here and we'd spend the rest of our days spectating the_ absolutely godly clusterfuck _that was the Forever Grail War – or at least we would until the Counter Force stepped in when the dumbass Servants inevitably got out of hand because their inevitably dumbass human Masters ordered it.'_ Rin though he sounded _way_ too cheerful at that last part. ' _Oh, it would've been wonderful. We'd spend days watching shit get wrecked, Servants being absolutely badass, the Clock Tower and the Church both knotting their bloomers into fucking Origami pieces with stress and angst, it was gonna be_ wonderful _! Hell maybe we could even have cuddled a bit! I wouldn't have minded because_ holy shit _did you see the rack on that girl?_ Perfect _handfuls, I tel-Ahem. Then shit went sideways… because you showed up."_

'… _and_ apparently _I killed your Kook, right?'_ Rin sighed tiredly, again just so she could hear her voice. A little part of her wondered whether _she_ was the one who'd died and whether _this_ , being near this incompetent buffoon was just some sort of punishment. She quickly shrugged that off. ' _So seeing as I apparently killed your Kook-'_

" _By setting her fucking face on fire,"_ Angra interrupted glibly. " _Don't forget that part!"_

' _-you opted to do… what exactly?'_ Rin continued, blatantly ignoring the Jackass' interruption. ' _Because you couldn't swallow the Kook, you decided to swallow me instead?'_

" _Fuck no,"_ the Jackass replied whimsically. " _God, did you see yourself? No way I'd willingly throw my lot in with some rickety humpbacked old liver spot on legs."_

Rin _imagined_ feeling a sensation quite similar to her eye twitching. _'What part of 'barely out of my thirties' did you_ not _understand…?'_

" _The part that wasn't 'Big-titted, easily-manipulated nubile teen',"_ Angra responded flippantly.

' _You…'_ Rin considered what she could say in that situation, just to hammer home how disgusting this asshole's lechery was starting to be at that moment. But then she remembered how literally _every little insult_ she'd thrown at this bastard since her incarceration in this nothingness only made him _more_ annoying, so she opted for yet another defeated sigh. ' _You are incorrigible,'_ she said finally, ' _and absolutely depraved.'_

" _Heh. 'Personification of Evil', remember?"_ He responded with an _infuriatingly audible_ smirk.

Once again, however, Rin opted not to say anything. Her concern was with this new world – the one she damned, a little voice in the back of her mind reminded her with an icy tone. Angra had said earlier that he'd try 'batting for the winning team' for once, but he was distracted by all these _absolutely atrocious_ – not to mention _futile_ – attempts to win her friendship. For that matter…

' _Why do you even want a friend?'_ Rin questioned. ' _What use does an evil jackass like you_ have _for a friend?'_

" _Oh that's cold, Rinny,"_ said Jackass responded with a put-upon tone of hurt. " _That's frigid. Wow. You can be such a bitch at times."_ Again, she blatantly ignored this barb – and the sting of anger it caused. " _Well, Gems, look at this way, 'kay? These Grail Wars and shit? They've gotten old. Really old. And… a bit underwhelming. Kinda like a hot twenty-something taking her shirt off and you see she's just_ barely _a B. Disappointing, nauseating and kinda arousal-snuffing, yanno?"_

No. No, she really _didn't_ know. And she hoped dearly that any returning memories did not _let_ her know, at that. She felt a shudder rock her spirit, then – flickers danced across her mind's eye; a candlelit room, a feeling of warmth, linen sheets and a warm, loving gaze – auburn hair and golden-brown eyes, and a warm smile on one end and on the other end… _blonde? Fair… skin? Brown eyes?_

She shook that off. Wasn't relevant, she told herself – no jewelled sword, no talk of a Grail to be stopped, no Zelretch – meaningless, and in no way related to any way to save this world. With a spike of bitter disappointment stinging at her core, she turned her focus back to the still prattling Jackass.

"… _So all things said and done, Gems,"_ he nattered on, seemingly unaware of Rin's lapse in focus, " _I can see as many Grail Wars as fate can throw at me and they can become damn near apocalyptic in scale – I'm talking battle of the fucking Biblical forces here – and it still wouldn't mean jack; because whenever I flip my shit and go "Holy fucking shit, did you see that?" This darkness don't answer. And that… That makes the novelty wear off rather quickly."_

Rin blinked. Or rather, imagined she felt the sensation of blinking. Tiredly, at that. This incarnation of darkness, this _manifestation,_ no, this _personification_ of Evil… was bored and lonely. Of all the impossibilities… Irony seemed to have more than just a twisted sense of humor – it had a false smile, hollow words of reassurance and a _jagged, rusted knife_ in store for anyone foolish enough to turn their back on it. ' _How would that even work?'_ She asked half-listlessly. ' _You can't even open your mouth without making me feel pain in my_ soul _.'_ An over-exaggeration, of course, but her current frustration and exhaustion certainly _felt_ like a pain in her soul…

" _D'aw, flatterer,"_ Angra said, and Rin swore the bastard sounded _earnestly bashful_ when he did. It was as though her insults actually warmed his hea- " _Stop, though, you'll make me realize there's more to a girl than cup size."_ No, no, he was still fucking with her. It was foolish of her to think he wasn't, she chided herself. " _Anyway, Rinny, you'll realize I'm not asking that much. I mean let's be honest; I do_ not _want to cuddle with anyone who namedrops motherfucking Zelretch, that's just bad juju. Folks like you? That old arsehole's type? You got shitloads of emotional baggage and last I checked I ain't no bellboy. Anyway! As you've no doubt noticed: I'm lonely."_

' _I wonder why,'_ Rin shot back, her tone aflame with ire and venom.

" _Now because I'm not a completely heartless Kook-murdering bitch,"_ Angra continued, ignoring Rin's snark and drawing an exasperated sigh from her, " _I've opted to meet you halfway, see? Because that's how this shit apparently works, I'unno, not like I've had a friend before. So here's the syrup-coated olive branch for you, Rinny: You be my friend, and share in my entertainment as this undoubtedly_ riveting _Grail War plays out, yanno, struggle between good-and-evil, fate of the world bullshit? You be my little theatre buddy for this clusterfuck… And_ I _will mess up the order of things and make sure not everyone summons a complete arsehole as a Servant. Hell, depending on how much you make me smile I might even have them summon blokes who would_ want _to destroy this little Grail."_

Rin pondered this half-arsed attempt at a compromise thoroughly, realizing that even a half-arsed attempt was better than none. _'It's a relatively… fresh world, I must say. One rife with struggle and darkness… I'd hate to see a darker-inclined Servant establish some kind of dominance here…'_

" _Oh you have_ no idea _, Rinny,"_ Angra responded, sounding _serious_ for once. " _One of the Grail Wars back home consisted of fuckall_ but _the worst of the worst assholes summoned for the War. I'm talking Grade-A fucktrumpets here, Rinny; think shit like Genghis Khan, think Caligula and Agrippina, think fucking Agravain and Morgan Le Fucking Fay. That… was not a good War. Not at all. Hell I'm the Personification of Fucking Evil and I think that War was a bit too much. Naturally I don't want to see that again. Because everyone trying to out-Evil one another gets fucking boring after a while."_

Rin quickly ran those names through her head – Genghis Khan, she recalled immediately, and she guessed she would have shuddered in dread if she still had the faculties to do so. Agrippina was a bit more obscure to her, but even she knew of Caligula. Agravain, the knight who exposed the affair between Guinevere and Lancelot, and Morgan le Fay… _That_ bitch needed no special introduction at all. ' _Unacceptable,'_ she surmised. A Grail War composed of the absolute worst of history's legends? This world would be doomed within the month, and even that was a gracious overestimation. ' _That can't be allowed…'_

" _Damn right it can't,"_ Angra agreed. " _Because like I said: people trying to out-Evil one another is boring as hell. So whaddya say, Rinny? Do we have a deal?"_

 _That_ didn't sound shady at all, Rin groused inwardly. Not at all. There was a lingering hesitation in her core, though – a little piece of her that was screaming at her that trusting this son of a bitch to uphold his side of the bargain was risky business. He seemed… _honest_ enough, for a given value of the word, and despite his blatant jackassery he seemed to be wearing his (suitably twisted and macabre) heart on his sleeve. That did nothing to ease her distrust of the whole situation, however. ' _How do I know I can trust you?'_ She asked uncertainly.

Yet again, silence reigned – at least, until an amused snort shattered the relative peace of the dark void. " _Coming around, are you?"_ Angra asked – and to Rin's mounting curiosity and _horror_ the fiend actually sounded excited. " _Y'know what? Again I'm gonna meet you halfway. Know what I'm gonna do now? I, am gonna put my fuckin' money where my mouth is."_

Around them, the void started to shift and change and spasm and _crack_ ; rays of pale light shone in Rin's vision as the darkness bled away, revealing lush undergrowth and verdant forestry spanning miles upon miles in the distance. It was early morning, Rin realized by the line of orange that was slowly but surely creeping over the horizon. Yet the moon – that shattered chunk of pale marble – still hung high in the sky. It would have made for an idyllic scene had sound not bled into the picturesque display – Rin's core clenched as the chaotic roar of a modern thruster shattered the relative early-morning peace. From her eagle's-eye perspective she noticed the small transport shuttle soaring over the treetops, blasting its way towards a bare, skeletal, dilapidated city in the distance, and upon… _squinting_ , or doing something that at least _felt_ like squinting, she could make out the passengers of the craft through its exposed sides. One clad in shades of midnight and red, one in stark white – one in monochrome and one in garish shades of brown and yellow. _Four of the Masters,_ Rin realized abruptly. _The… The first four that I saw…_

" _Yup!"_ Angra confirmed, his tone preppy and energetic. " _'Nuff fuel's been gathered to warrant a Summoning, see. And these little kiddies here? Oh, they're special. Special in a way you won't_ believe _if I just tell you, so I'm opting to_ show _you instead. Hope you're not petty, Gems, because green doesn't strike me as your colour."_

'… _What?'_ Rin asked, strained and perplexed. ' _What the hell are you talking about?'_

" _Ssshhhhhh,"_ the Jackass spoke smugly. " _Just sit back and watch, Rinny. Told you I wouldn't have everybody summoning assholes, did I? Now watch me_ prove it _."_

* * *

Weiss Schnee jumped slightly as a bout of turbulence shook the Bullhead that was carrying Team RWBY.

After fighting off the instinct to chastise herself for losing focus to such an extent that _turbulence_ could make her jump, she sagged back into her seat and gazed back out the exposed side of the aircraft, staring rather nervously at the skeletal remains of the city looming in the distance. This nervousness she felt… was one that she could not properly place. Perhaps it was the fact that for all her research, she could discover _absolutely nothing_ about the mark that now adorned the back of her hand. Perhaps it was the fact that they were being carted back to a hellhole they had just barely escaped from mere _days_ prior, and perhaps it was the memory of her rather _crushing_ defeat at the hands of that White Fang lieutenant that spooked her so. Perhaps it had been the reports of increasing Grimm activity near Mountain Glen's fringes, so close to the borders of Vale. Any number of things could be causing this tumultuous knot in the bottom of her stomach…

…and her nerves weren't calmed _at all_ by the periodic spikes of pain that would shoot through her new 'tattoo' at random intervals, starting _just_ after they'd taken off.

She cast a half-hearted, baleful glare at the back of her hand. It had started bleeding again that morning – the skin was left raw and sensitive and the mark seemed just a _tad_ darker than usual. Every flex of her fingers made a dull ache pulse through her hand – and even now, small flecks of red dotted the immaculately crafted bandage she had wrapped around it.

These marks… it was likely _they_ were the root of her nervousness now. Three days, she and the rest of her team had done their absolute best to discover the cause of it all, to find some hint as to explain this phenomenon… all for naught. Winter was preoccupied when Weiss had tried to call; arrangements to be made, courses to plot, and so on and so on, according to Winter's personal pilot. At one point Weiss actually considered calling her father too – but she decided against that rather quickly, for obvious reasons.

Blake, Ruby and Yang turned up nothing either. Blake, despite Ren's assistance, found absolutely nothing in Beacon's library, despite their most valiant efforts. Ruby and Yang's father, likewise, turned up nothing, even after consulting several other faculty members at Signal Academy. Much like Winter, the sisters' uncle couldn't be reached for an opinion either.

And then, Weiss thought with a frown, as she remembered the previous day's big meeting in Ozpin's office. Then, there was the cherry on top of this whole conundrum.

 _For the first time Weiss could recollect, the prestigious Headmaster's Office of Beacon Academy was packed to the brim. Teams RWBY and JNPR stood at the forefront of this assembled crowd, all of them casting nervous glances around them to see just what all the fuss was about. They made their deductions soon enough – all around them stood students from varying academies, varying years and varying backgrounds; Weiss could even make out Team CVFY off to the side, and Cardin Winchester was hovering near the opposite edge of the crowd, seemingly lost without the rest of his team to back him up. Students from Atlas, Haven, Shade, all walks of life, all packed into Professor Ozpin's office._

 _And the one true constant, the common denominator between them all, were the marks._

 _Even the Professors seemed to be sporting them. She could see the tattoos clearly on the backs of Professors Port and Oobleck's hands, and the way that Professor Goodwitch kept irritably pressing at her shoulder clued her in that the stern disciplinarian drew a short straw akin to Ruby's in terms of mark placement. General Ironwood seemed to be the only one who wasn't antsy. Apart from Ozpin, that was._

 _She wasn't the only one who noticed, either. Curious eyes of varying colours locked onto the many different marks adorning the students' extremities, and a curious bustle erupted amongst the gathered students. Conspiracies, theories, hypotheses were all traded in the back-and-forth buzz – until Ozpin set his coffee down and cleared his throat._

 _Instantaneous silence followed._

" _I'm sure I don't need to tell you why I've called you all here," the Headmaster spoke measuredly, and in response almost every assembled student either gazed at their respective marks, or quickly placed a hand over it. "The onset of these marks is a troubling one indeed, and I thank you for responding to my summons. It should be obvious that these marks aren't limited to one particular clique or group. They… transcend the boundaries of the four Kingdoms, and are seemingly indiscriminate in their appearance." He paused then, for a moment, studying the assembled students from over the rim of his glasses. "As such… we have decided to be upfront with you about this matter. It is… not good news, I am afraid. Rather – it is not any kind of news at all," he finished, beckoning to the General standing beside him._

" _We've been working towards discovering the cause of these marks since they first started appearing amongst the student populace and the faculty of Beacon Academy." The General wasted no time on niceties. His face was set into a grim expression of seriousness as he spoke, his eyes steely, his jaw set. "Almost every single theory we have come up with fell flat within moments of us discussing it. At first we thought these marks were a unique reaction born of Dust. It seemed feasible at first – all of you utilize or work with Dust on a day-to-day basis. This theoretical, however, fell flat when we received no word from the SDC or the myriad other Dust retailers regarding these marks appearing. As such… we've discounted the theory of this phenomenon being borne of Dust."_

" _Our second theoretical revolved around Aura," Professor Goodwitch spoke then, stepping forward, her heels clacking loudly. She regarded the students with the same stern sense of professionalism and self-discipline she often spearheaded her classes with – but her hand was still pressed against her shoulder, and even the daftest students present could see a toll of sorts on her face. "At first, these marks seemed to manifest solely on people with well-developed Auras. Students, faculty members, military officers," she said, beckoning back to General Ironwood. "For a moment it seemed we had ourselves a common denominator." She paused momentarily, pawing at her shoulder. "Then we received select reports of civilians baring the same marks – civilians who haven't even had their Auras unlocked. Some cases didn't even know what Aura_ was _."_

 _A muted cough sounded from behind her, and Weiss rolled her eyes. How bad was it when she could tell Jaune Arc out by his_ cough _?_

 _Then Oobleck stepped forward and spoke his mind. He prattled on about cross-referencing the various marks he'd seen so far with some sigils, runes and engravings from what little remained of Remnant's ancient Kingdoms and Empires. Even there they found nothing; the markings held no meaning, no pattern. They were erratic, so vastly different it was simply impossible to associate them all with a solid theoretical aesthetic. The Doctor noted how it seemed as though some of them fashioned themselves after their wielders' Semblances – but even those weren't numerous enough to be called a constant._

 _And with every word the faculty spoke, Weiss felt the concern gnawing at her innards becoming that much more pronounced._

" _I am sorry to say that we have disproved nearly every theory we have come up with," Ozpin spoke again, idly crossing his hands. Weiss felt her uncertainty churn slightly as she saw the edges of Ozpin's own mark peeking out from beneath his sleeve. "All we can do now is wait, until the opportunity for us to learn more about these markings presents itself. I know it is not an ideal solution – and it causes me no small amount of discomfort, being unable to assuage your worries about this odd phenomenon. All I can offer now is a solemn oath, that we will do our absolute best to get to the bottom of this," he said with a sombre tone of finality. "For now, I advise you continue with your daily lives. However… The appearance of these marks have been sporadic, and without pattern, and while we have no reason to suspect there are hostile forces at work here… we have no reason to discount that theory either. In light of this suspicion, your_ official _instructions are to report any and all changes or odd occurrences regarding your markings to the closest faculty or military personnel. With your help, we hope to reach a steadfast hypothesis regarding these markings sooner rather than later." He fixed the assembled students with another stare – this one, oddly, a mix of regret and exhaustion; a look rarely seen in the Headmaster's eyes._

" _Once again," he said levelly, "I am sorry we could not give you more answers, and that we've left you with nothing but more questions. But once again: You have our word – we_ will _get to the bottom of this."_

That had been the final nail in the coffin, so to speak.

 _Ozpin himself_ did not know what these tattoos were or where they came from. Worse, Ironwood had specifically mentioned the SDC, which likely meant he and the Headmaster had been in contact with her father – and as much as the idea of the man irked and discomforted Weiss, she could not deny that the Schnee patriarch was a _walking encyclopaedia_ when it came to matters regarding the Schnee family's hereditary Glyph semblance. And still, their search – one conducted on a scale large enough to make Team RWBY's efforts seem like _midday planning_ – turned up absolutely nothing in terms of answers. These tattoos were complete unknowns.

 _That_ , Weiss decided, was what bothered her so much. _That_ was what she attributed her current nervousness to; her uncertainty regarding this ominous new phenomenon, coupled with her already jittery nerves as she awaited the start of the Vytal Festival in a few days seemed to be running amok with her state of self.

Yes.

Yes, that seemed an adequate explanation. For now, at least – even if it could turn out to be wrong, _some_ hint of certainty in the face of these vast _un_ certainties was a surprisingly comforting thing.

"Hey!" She heard from the side suddenly, and she only barely kept from wincing as another shoulder lightly knocked against her own. Tearing her gaze away from the deteriorating husk that was Mountain Glen, Weiss looked to the side and locked eyes with her team leader. There was a degree of mischief sparkling in those silver eyes, one that was only compounded by the grin on the young girl's face. But that did not draw Weiss' attention away from the concern floating in Ruby's gaze. "You can't _glare_ the Grimm away from our drop site, y'know," the diminutive reaper offered. "You're not Port."

Despite herself, Weiss smiled slightly at the jest. Leave it up to Ruby to show concern in a way that was so… _her_ that it didn't even leave the Heiress surprised at that moment. When they'd first met, Weiss often took Ruby's mannerisms to be childish and immature – and she wouldn't shy away from admitting that she still thought such things about her leader at times. This, however, was not such a time – and Ruby's (admittedly witty, at this point) humour did manage to draw her mind away from her inner turmoil. "You say that like it's a bad thing," Weiss replied with a smirk.

She felt rather proud of herself when her retort drew a snort and a giggle from Ruby.

"So what's up?" The Team Leader asked, her tone one of honest concern as she leaned over. "You're not looking too good. What's worrying you?"

Weiss tensed – _just a bit_ – as her thoughts went plummeting back to whatever unknown thing was bothering her. A rather large part of her considered putting it off for a while – after all, they were barely ten minutes from their drop site, and then they had a mission waiting that could last anywhere from ten minutes to most of the _day_. A large part of her felt she _really_ didn't have the right to unload her own baggage on others – after all, it was _her_ weakness. Ruby looked no worse for wear as she sat next to the Heiress – although the concern in her eyes _was_ growing, Weiss noticed – and on the opposite side of the transport, Yang and Blake looked as though they couldn't be more relaxed either. Was it even okay for her to bother them with this… this _nervousness_ that didn't seem to want to leave her alone?

"Hey," she heard again, and _again_ she felt her leader bump shoulders with her. Again she turned to face Ruby – only this time, instead of a mischievous grin and a glint in those silver eyes, the smile she received was warm and reassuring. The gleam in those silver eyes was different this time, she also noted; they held a confidence Weiss could only _ever_ associate with Ruby. Now, however… that confidence seemed aimed at her. "You know you can talk to me, right?" Ruby assured her. "About anything."

 _Of course I can,_ she told herself mentally, smiling at the younger girl's words. _Of course…_ "I-" She started – only to hiss, _viciously_ , as another spike of pain lanced across the back of her hand. It was something fleeting, not enough to cripple her – but _just_ enough to draw her attention to the dull ache that had been festering in her hand. Again she frowned at the back of her hand, wondering just _what_ was going on to make it ache so badly. Her train of thought was interrupted, however, when Ruby leaned forwards in her seat, her silver eyes locking onto the bloodied bandage and narrowing slightly.

"That doesn't look too good," she noted, and Weiss just barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "When'd it start? Y'know, doing that?"

"The bleeding started this morning," Weiss intoned, meeting her leader's gaze. "It wasn't too much of a hassle then, but now… After we took off from Beacon it's been getting worse. Sometimes it… cramps up, and hurts, but just for a moment," she said, breaking eye contact to glare at the back of her hand again. "Just long enough to be a _bother_."

Ruby started at the red-spotted fabric around Weiss' hand for a moment longer before nodding. "Let me know if it gets any worse okay? Professor Goodwitch is on standby back at Beacon in case anything goes wrong, and, well… Ozpin _did_ say we should report any changes…" She said. "Pretty sure there's something in our field kit that could help too."

" _Please_ ," Weiss scoffed. "I'm not going to reach for local anaesthetic just because my _hand_ is aching, Ruby. That's just wasteful."

"I know, I know," Ruby retorted, a placating grin on her face. "Just putting it out there, y'know? 'Sides, I don't really think this is a… _normal_ ache," she said hesitantly, glancing at the bandage. "Just… yeah. Just don't push yourself too much, okay?" she trailed off, opting not to repeat her 'tell me if it gets worse' instruction.

Smiling slightly, Weiss shook her head and turned her gaze back to the looming ruin in the distance. Ruby, she had realized by now, had her own way of doing things, and while at first Weiss had been… _slightly_ intolerant thereof (only _slightly!_ ), she had since come to appreciate the diminutive reaper's honest, affectionate manner of leading her team. At first she found it to be childlike, immature and an antithesis of sorts to everything she'd been taught a leader should be. Now, however… Now she viewed it as one of Ruby's best traits; something that helped the young girl lead the rest of her team to be the best they could be, in any given circumstances.

Not that she'd say that aloud, of course.

Then she felt something bump into her shoulder _again_ , and despite all the worries currently assailing her, a single syllable of a snicker escaped as she turned to face her partner again. " _Yes?_ " She asked, feigning exasperation with the young girl's antics. Now if only her _face_ could play along and stop smiling, it might actually be effective. Ruby's rather contagious smile wasn't helping matters at all. Still, she had to admit she was feeling just a slight bit better.

"Your hand's not all that's bothering you, is it?" The silver-eyed girl intoned, her smile dropping just a bit.

…and now Weiss wasn't feeling better at all. _When did she become so perceptive?!_

She quickly fought down a knee-jerk response to deny everything. After all, a Schnee dealt with her problems head-on, with poise and grace – they needn't rely on anyone but themselves and their own ability. Or at least, that was what she'd been taught. She had even adhered to that teaching, when she had first arrived at Beacon. Now, though… Now things had changed. She was part of a _team_ now, and over the last few months they'd proven to her that a _team_ did more than just 'fight together'. Calling it a family wasn't far off the mark; they were constantly supporting one another, inspiring one another to reach greater heights, and kept one another grounded and moving forward.

By now, Weiss Schnee had gotten used to calling the rest of Team RWBY her _friends_.

That was why…

"I don't know," she said finally, looking out over the forest again.

That was why she felt she could admit that she felt this little uncomfortable sensation as they approached Mountain Glen. It wasn't weakness; they were a cohesive unit, after all – a set of cogs, so to speak, that linked together to perform a greater function. _Help and be helped_. They were more than just simple partners at this point – and because of that, Weiss felt a degree of solace at being able to actually confide in people who weren't Winter. " _I don't know_ , and that's what's bothering me," she said at length. "This is just… This is a routine mission; this is _extra credit_ so to speak, so I don't understand why I'm feeling so… so _apprehensive_ about this," she said lamely, looking back to her leader. "I don't operate on 'bad feelings' about things, but this… This is a bad feeling, and it is _annoying_ me to no end," she huffed finally, resting her head back against the seat. "This _mark_ has got me all frantic and I hate it."

For a moment, silence reigned again, as Ruby carefully processed Weiss' words. Those silver eyes were alight in thought, never once leaving the blood-flecked bandage wrapped around the Heiress' hand, until… "You want us to turn back?" She asked suddenly. Weiss' jaw nearly dropped, not at the question, but because the gleam in those eyes told her that Ruby was being serious. "Now hold up, hold up," Ruby interrupted her building rant, holding her hands up in a placating manner. "I know it's our mission and all, and make no mistake, I don't _want_ to turn away from this," she said slowly. "But it's obvious that something isn't right, y'know? I… I'm not used to seeing you like this, so I'm… I'm worried. And if you've been feeling since way since your tattoo started bleeding… Weiss, it's really not that hard to make a connection there," she said, before glibly adding an "even I can see that."

 _That's completely ridiculous,_ Weiss thought to herself, huffing slightly as she turned averted her gaze. That pang of nervousness resounded in her stomach again – this time she wasn't even looking in Mountain Glenn's direction. She felt… stressed, cornered, _panicked_ , for lack of a better word, and all the while the back of her hand throbbed, not painfully, but _just_ enough to draw her attention to it. _So why can't I shake this off?_

"Listen," Ruby spoke up again, placing a hand on Weiss shoulder. The Heiress was confused at how her first instinct _wasn't_ to try and shrug the offending limb off. Rather… Rather the hand on her shoulder _grounded_ her now, gave her something else to focus on for a while. Hesitantly she met Ruby's eyes. "You _know_ there are more teams on standby back at Beacon. Juniper is literally suited up and ready to go," she said with a small smile. "I know backing out of a task isn't like you, but _this_ ," she said, pointing at the bloodied bandage – _when did it start bleeding so badly?_ – on the back of Weiss' hand, "makes me worried. And… You're my partner. Your wellbeing's more important than some routine assignment," she said finally. She topped it off by giving Weiss' shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Don't think of it as backing out," she said with a grin. "Think of it as a tactical retreat."

For a moment, Weiss' stare turned deadpan. _"_ That's not a 'tactical retreat' at all, Ruby," she said exasperatedly, and her stare only turned more incredulous when Ruby's only response to her reprimand was a wide grin. _Honestly, this girl…_ "Look, I… appreciate, the sentiment, Ruby, but this is _no_ reason to want to turn tail. For all we kn-ngh!" She flinched as spots appeared in her vision, and a literal quake of pain rippled across her arm. It sobered her, tore every hint of humour and camaraderie from the forefront of her mind as she felt the dull ache settle all the way at the bottom of her shoulder blade. And all the while, an urgent note had started playing from the team's scrolls.

Blake was the first to respond to it, setting down her book as she quickly flipped open the display, and her usually placid expression turned sombre as she gazed at the team displays. Wordlessly, Blake passed the device to Weiss, who took hold of it with the hand that _wasn't_ currently a bandaged, trembling mess, and hesitantly gazed at the display. Their Team Status was currently being viewed – four portraits, one for each team member, each with a heart-rate display, smaller vital signs and most importantly an Aura Level display. Weiss' eyes quickly latched onto her own portrait, and with a shuddering breath she realized what was wrong:

Her Aura Level read 92%.

Now the knot in her stomach was back, with more presence and discomfort than ever before. Somehow, some way, that little 'spike' of pain had sucked away a whole eight percent of her Aura; she had taken punches from _Yang_ that didn't take that much. Then a spot of red from the edge of her peripheral caught her attention, and with a suddenly dry mouth, Weiss looked back at the bandage adorning her hand. A smudge of red had bloomed there, beneath the flecks of dried blood, and it was growing, slowly but surely, by the second.

Unconsciously, her fingers flexed as she sat there gazing at the rapidly-growing red stain. For some reason, her anxiousness had all but doubled at this point as she felt a slightly prickly sensation pierce through the dull, throbbing ache. _Not right. Unprecedented. Inexplicable._ Something was _seriously_ wrong here and Weiss suspected it had nothing to do with the actual mission. Her pulse raced, her eyes dilated – panic was starting to set in, and again, to Weiss' _absolute vexation,_ she couldn't identify _what_ about the scenario currently made her feel so needlessly restless and antsy. Absently she noted Ruby and Yang talking about… _something_. She wasn't registering what they were saying; her focus was on her hand.

Gingerly, she raised her good hand and daintily – or as daintily as her shaking form allowed – started to peel back the bandage around her hand. The now-slick fabric peeled off the extremity with a wet sound and a spike of pain, but eventually it came undone, and icy blue eyes widened slightly as they beheld the 'wound' that was so annoying. A sense of uncertainty clenched at Weiss' heart as she started, a sense she fought _valiantly_ to suppress. But looking at the back of her hand now, she found she rightly couldn't; for her eyes focuses not on the damp, red edge of her sleeve or the trails of blood that swept down her arm.

No, her eyes were anchored to the crest, the 'tattoo' that had appeared on the back of her hand scant _days_ prior. No longer was it barely discernable, a mottled shade of dullish brown that, while clashing with her pale complexion, didn't do much to stand out.

Now, it was _black_ , its edges and contours and lines tinted a dark, aberrant shade, an ugly black patch on her immaculate skin.

She honestly didn't know how much time had passed when another hand gently took her own into a careful, concerned grip. Blearily Weiss turned to look at Ruby, as the diminutive leader carefully turned Weiss' hand around in her grip until the now-tar coloured marking was completely visible – and those silver eyes went from confusion to concern in a fraction of the time it took Weiss' heart to beat. Her face fell, as she looked at that inky brand, and Weiss – despite herself – felt a measure of relief that she was not the only one worried about the turn this situation took.

With a resolute shake of her head, Ruby finally pried her eyes off the tattoo. "Nope," she said with finality. "Nope. Absolutely not." With determined steps she shuffled over to the small corridor that led to the Bullhead's cockpit, and urgently tapped the pilot on the shoulder. Said pilot, a young woman dressed in coverall fatigues branded with the Beacon Academy insignia, merely tilted her head so her ear was pointed in Ruby's direction, a clear indicator to speak up. Not once did the woman take her eyes off the skies before her. "Something's come up," Weiss heard Ruby say over the muffled roar of the engines. "Something serious. We need to turn back – could you radio in and ask for one of the reserve teams? We need to get my partner to Professor Ozpin ASAP," and here she chanced a nervous, worried glance back at the heiress, "and maybe the infirmary after that," she finished, her eyes dropping to the still bleeding etching on the back of Weiss hand.

The Heiress' first instinct was to step up and wave her leader's concerns off – at least as far as the infirmary was concerned. The logical part of her maintained that this was likely just a scratch, a little tear in raw, sensitive skin that would probably mend once her Aura got to work. But that was the thing that bothered her; despite squinting and glaring and even bringing her wounded hand close to her eyes, she couldn't see a definite _source_ of the bleeding. It was as though the mark's very outline wept blood; as though the tattoo itself _was_ the wound. That was unsettling; and the fact that her Aura wasn't stemming the bleeding just made her that much more nervous. She chanced a glance around her again. Yang and Blake were both regarding her with worry in their eyes – the former even offered her a reassuring smile as they locked eyes. Both of them, however, looked just as apprehensive as she felt about the matter at hand.

Maybe… Maybe she wasn't being silly, Weiss admitted.

Maybe turning back _was_ the correct course of action in this scenario.

Admitting it, though, did not assuage the bitter aftertaste left in her mouth at the prospect of pulling out of a mission.

"Roger, miss," she heard the pilot speak up, flipping a few switches on the cockpit's dash before speaking the radio built into her headset. The rest of her words, however, were slowly drowned out as Weiss averted her attention. With a huff, she reached into the pack the kept in the small of her back and pulled out a fresh bandage, and quickly set to work redressing her wound. Already she felt the slight sway as the Bullhead angled off to the right, starting its journey back to Beacon. She quickly buried the sting in her chest once the realization set in that, _yes_ , they were actually turning away from this assignment, and just as quickly did away with feeling responsible for it. _This was not failure,_ she quickly told herself. As Ruby had said, it was a tactical withdrawal, to attempt to eliminate a hitherto unknown factor that may or may not have hindered their mission.

"Turning back!" She was pulled from her thoughts when Ruby plopped back down in the seats beside her. It was odd – Weiss was the one with the odd, bleeding tattoo, and the root of this sudden withdrawal, yet it was _Ruby_ who seemed most relieved that they were actually leaving the danger zone. Weiss shook her head as she watched the nervousness in those silver eyes dissipate slight. Ever the steadfast leader, Ruby was adamant in sharing in her team's burdens and worries. The ditzy young girl had actually once told her something _remarkably_ insightful for a girl of her age: "Two sets of shoulders make the weight lighter – and four sets even more." And her leader practiced what she preached – case in point: _Right now_. "Pilot told Goodwitch that we're coming back. Mentioned your mark," she said, quickly motioning to Weiss' hand. "Prof said she'll inform Ozpin and will meet all of us on the landing pad."

"Shouldn't she be managing the reserve teams too?" Weiss asked with a raised brow. "Honestly… Professor Goodwitch takes way too much onto her plate."

"Well, yeah, but…" Ruby trailed off. "Wouldn't exactly be Goodwitch if she _didn't_ , y'know?" She said glibly. "She's… Actually, now that I think about it Professor Goodwitch is pretty much Beacon's 'do-everything person'," she said, a look of _honest to goodness_ realization on her face – one that served to draw a snort from Weiss.

"You cannot honestly tell me you only just noticed," she said, her tone disbelieving.

"Of _course_ I noticed!" Ruby responded, taken aback – although the sudden panic in her eyes told Weiss that _yes_ , Ruby had indeed just noticed that every major _and_ menial task in Beacon seemed to be handled by the Deputy Headmistress.

Inwardly sighing, she shook her head. _She can tell when I'm distressed even when I try to hide it… but fails to notice that the Deputy Headmistress is probably the single most overworked person in all of Vale… after roughly a year._ "Honestly…" she said. "You'd think –"

" _Brace!"_

That single barked order from the cockpit, alongside a sharp-pitched, _critical_ whine from the Bullhead's radar, was the only hint of warning they got – and Weiss herself just _barely_ managed to grab hold of the supports lining the sides of her seat as the aircraft suddenly pitched to the left, quickly and _violently_. Distantly she registered the yelp of surprise from Ruby and the brash " _What the hell?!_ " from Yang.

Both, however, were muffled by the _unholy_ screech that sounded outside the Bullhead.

She saw the enormous form for but a moment as it passed by the hatch on her side of the craft; large as a hill, black as night with wings nearly double the span of the Bullhead folded down to its sides. She only briefly caught sight of the baleful red eye as it glared into the Bullhead for but a second before disappearing. The Bullhead shook under the tremendous gust of air that followed in the enormous beast's wake, and Weiss' ears rang as the beast loosed another inhuman screech of fury. " _Nevermore!"_ She distantly heard Yang call as the Bullhead dipped and weave in an attempt to steady itself again. " _Big Nevermore!"_

The radar whined again, and in the distance Weiss could hear the keening cries of yet more of the Avian Grimm. She barely made out the curses being muttered under the pilot's breath, and a quick glance outside the hatch confirmed her suspicions and made her stomach drop. The large Nevermore was behind them – but a pack of smaller ones, insofar as a Grimm the size of a Bullhead could be called small, were slowly descending from on high. "That big one tried to divebomb us," she heard the pilot call as her panic surged again, making her pulse race and her ears ring. "Came from above – still dark there. Hang on!" She barked again. The Bullhead seemed to _shift_ as the pilot worked her magic, and Weiss' stomach lurched uncomfortably as she clung to her harness. She reckoned she would have been thrown around a fair bit more if not for those securing belts.

"I'm so glad Jaune's not here!" She heard Ruby call from the side, and her eye twitched.

" _That's_ the first thing that comes to mind here?!" She asked irately.

"We'd be covered in barf, _don't judge me!"_ Ruby responded honestly. Weiss merely chose to shake her head at this statement, ignoring, for the moment, that it was _right_.

The Bullhead shook then; the reverberation of impact travelled through the steel around them as the screech of shearing steel filled their ears. It only barely drowned out the violent curse their pilot uttered, as several red lights suddenly lit up in the cockpit. An emergency klaxon sounded as the craft shook violently, and the smell of smoke quickly filled their nostrils.

"What happened?!" She heard Ruby yelp. She opted not to look, though – instead keeping her gaze outside the aircraft. Those Nevermores were still big – and their beaks could _easily_ fit inside their little aircraft.

"Lost one of the engines," the pilot responded tersely. The woman's headset had been lost in the turbulence as she fought to keep the craft steady, and her hands were gripping the Bullhead's controls with enough force to make the leather of her gloves squeak pitifully as she fought for control.

For naught – the craft shook again, and this times its tail end came dangerously close to spinning out.

"No use," they heard the pilot call back to them. "Grab your weapons, I need to set her down!" It was _probably_ less of a command and more of an honest piece of advice at that point – mainly because at that point it became clear that the Bullhead was going down no matter what they did. So with a resigned sigh and a worried glance at the bandage adorning her hand, Weiss reached back to her storage compartment and grabbed Myrtenaster by the hilt. All the while she could hear the pilot's urgent chatter into her radio, a mixed bunch of 'maydays', 'alerts' and other terms she would have felt ashamed at not knowing under any other circumstances.

" _Whoa,"_ she heard Ruby mutter beside her, and quickly snapped her gaze towards the team leader. The red-clad girl already had Crescent Rose in her grasp, in its rifle form, as she stared out the hatch on her side of the craft – and Weiss felt her worries hitch slightly at how nervous Ruby's tone sounded. "Big birdie…" She heard the diminutive girl mutter, and as if on cue, the first Nevermore that attacked them circled around them, in all its gargantuan splendour. Weiss gulped slightly as she took the creature's size into account – it was even bigger than the one they'd fought during initiation. The skull-like mask on its face had grown out into an outright crown, adorned with bony shards, that stretched all the way down its spine. Six – _six!_ – red eyes dotted its angular face, its beak viciously curved and its plumage thick and bushy. There was no doubt about it; this beast was ancient. More so than any other Grimm they'd fought thus far.

Then the treeline peeked into view as the Bullhead descended, and Weiss felt her worries and nervousness return with enough force to make her stomach churn more than the swaying aircraft ever could. With fraying patience Weiss' fingers dug into the steel edge of her seat, and with a hiss she ignored the spike of pain that shot up her arm. Around her she took in the details of her team. Ruby's nervousness had bled away, leaving a wrought-iron mask of concentration and confidence on her young features as she kept her gaze outside the Bullhead, and Weiss could _see_ the gears in her head churning. Their leader was already coming up with plants of engagement – and likely had been since the Nevermores showed up, Weiss admitted. To herself, of course. Blake, on the other hand, seemed oddly discomforted, wincing _ever so slightly_ each time one of the Nevermores' keening cries sounded in the distance. Nonetheless, there was a steely glint in those amber eyes – and the way the team's resident bibliophile's knuckles were turning white as she gripped Gambol Shroud tightly told Weiss that Blake was just as ready for engagement as their leader was.

Yang… had an excited grin on her face, and a manic gleam in her eye.

Go figure. Always the brute, that one.

"Landing in five!" They heard the pilot call out. "Four…"

A loud, mechanical crack echoed in the passenger bay as Ruby racked the bolt on her rifle. The magazine loaded into Crescent Rose carried no insignia, indicating standard hand-loaded Dust rounds – but the presence of Ice, Fire and Gravity Dust magazines on Ruby's belt told Weiss the Leader was more than prepared, even to face an ancient Grimm. Blake, likewise, quickly slammed another cartridge of refined Dust into Gambol Shroud, and Yang's grin turned just a _bit_ more feral as Ember Celica deployed into its gauntlet form with a loud mechanical hiss.

"Two… one…"

Weiss hopped in her seat as the Bullhead slammed down on the ground, gritting her teeth. She slid forwards in her seat slightly, not even wincing as the safety harness pulled taut and tried to bite into her skin. Her head snapped forwards too, as the sound of destruction rose beneath them, the Bullhead's hull being torn apart by the unforgiving earth below them. But even the jarring lurch of the impact did not hinder her; her Aura took a physical whiplash and turned it into a middling inconvenience at _best_ , and the _moment_ the Bullhead stopped its see-sawing crawl forwards, Weiss allowed herself but a moment to recuperate. A mechanical _click_ sounded beside her as Ruby's harness came undone the _moment_ the craft steadied, and Weiss opened her eyes just in time to see several rose petals droop towards the floor. "Pilot's out cold," Ruby piped up from the cockpit, quickly and easily unbuckling the unconscious woman and pulling her back into the passenger bay. Not a moment too soon, at that, Weiss thought – the Bullhead's windshield had been shattered by the impact, and leaving the woman in such exposed conditions would certainly have spelled her doom. With a huff Ruby managed to load the woman into her unoccupied seat. Her hands made to reach for the safety harness - but she decided against it, instead simply winding the belts around the pilot's arms. She quickly checked for a pulse, and upon finding one, nodded to herself. "She'll be fine," the girl said quickly, before her gaze flitted outwards as another shrill cry sounded in the skies above. "We need to move…"

"What's the plan, sis?" Yang asked, racking her gauntlets and loading fresh shells into their chambers.

"Defensive formation," Ruby said decisively, "until we've got a better idea about their numbers. You and Blake take starboard, Weiss and I will handle port side. We might need to swap out as the fight goes on, so be ready and maintain contact, okay?" She instructed. Despite her tone, there was a glint of seriousness in her eyes, a gleam that made the usually silver orbs seem… _more vivid_ than usual.

The wordless response from the team was instantaneous, and within mere seconds the Huntresses had deployed outside the crashed Bullhead. With practiced routine Weiss assumed her stance, holding Myrtenaster at the ready as her eyes swept across the sky in a bid to find their target. A quick twitch of her finger set the rapier's cylinder spinning, loading up her Ice Dust as she tracked the enormous Grimm across the skies. She grimaced as she reached her final tally; aside the titanic Nevermore, at least twelve smaller avian monsters rapidly flitted about. Two of them, from this distance, seemed to be the size of the Bullhead that had just crashed. Some of them, thankfully, seemed no larger than the average Beowolf.

That did _not_ lessen the threat level of this flock _at all_. Especially with that enormous one flying above. The Nevermore they fought at Initiation was… _small_ enough that Ruby could safely wrap the blade of her scythe around its throat. With this one, Ruby would be lucky if Crescent Rose's shaft could fit inside the beast's eye socket. "I get the feeling our plans for this one won't involve a glyph-based guillotine?" She asked rhetorically.

Despite the dire situation, Ruby grinned. "I've got a few ideas," she said, her own silver eyes darting between Nevermores as she spoke. " _Might_ not want to use all your dust, though. You're the best person I can think of to ground that thing." Weiss smirked slightly at the praise. "First we'll need to deal with the smaller ones," the leader said then, quickly shifting her scythe into a more battle-ready position.

"That shouldn't be too tricky," Weiss quipped in response. She ignored the dull throb in her hand as she kept her rapier at the ready.

"Look at their flying patterns," Ruby noted. "The big one seems smart; he's keeping back, circling us, watching. Trying to pick a hole in our defences – I think he's a lot older than we can guess," she said with a grimace. "The tiny ones are erratic, though. Look at 'em; twitchy, jerky, they're all over the place. Young and silly; eager to attack. We can exploit that."

Another painful spike interrupted Weiss' answer to that, and she turned a baleful glare towards her hand. Already the fresh bandage was starting to tint red from the few spots that seeped into the fabric, and although her Aura had steadily been on the rise – a quick check revealed she was back up to ninety-six – the bleeding still wasn't stemming. To make matters worse, the flock of smaller Nevermores seem to grow antsy at her ire. Wings beat faster, caws became shriller and flight patterns became more spastic and sporadic, and Weiss _swore_ those beady little red eyes were locking onto her. _So it's going to be like that…_ She thought with a frown. _Just try._ With a flourish of her blade she drew back a single step, altering her stance into one that could parry from as many directions as possible. Two smaller Nevermores banked uneasily before her, trying to stay in sight, trying to keep their eyes locked with hers, as ridiculous as it sounded. Her glare deepened, and her grip on Myrtenaster tightened just a bit, and as if to make its presence known, and more _aggravating_ , that mark on her hand pulsed again, drawing a slight hiss from her. She shook it off – _not the time, nor the place, for-_

"Weiss…"

She blinked slightly as Ruby's voice shook her from her reverie. Carefully trying to keep the avian Grimm in her sights, she hesitantly turned to look at Ruby. The red-caped leader's expression had changed completely; gone was the apprehension, gone was the nervousness that she'd shown when the Bullhead started to go down. Now those eyes shone with an almost comforting degree of confidence, and her smile – not a grin, not a smirk, but an honest _smile_ – radiated calm. "Don't worry," she said simply, adjusting her grip on Crescent Rose. "We've _got this_."

Even the ache in her hand seemed to subside at that reassurance, impossible as it may have sounded. Her first response was a disbelieving snort, a half-chuckle at her leader's unfaltering confidence in her own ability _and_ in her team. Shortly after the snort, however, a genuine smile started tugging at Weiss' lips. Her ire seemed to bleed away, as though a weight had rolled off her shoulders. _This must be what inspiration feels like_ , Weiss thought with a shake of her head, before meeting Ruby's gaze. "Of course we do," she answered, not a little bit prideful at remembering the fact. Seeing Ruby's pleased grin at her response, the two girls shifted, their postures flawless, waiting for the inevitable attack.

Now, though… Now Weiss was _more_ than prepared. There was no ire, no worry, no disconcertion or troubled feelings. Only focus – focus and determination.

Only fitting, then, that the Grimm chose _that_ moment to attack.

* * *

With harsh cracks, her heels clicked down on the courtyard ground as she strolled forward, determination set into every inch of her frame as she powered towards the Bullheads waiting in the distance. Morning sunlight poured onto her as she went, and an early morning breeze tousled the purplish-black flame-tongued cape that dangled from her shoulders and caused a sheen to pass over her golden locks.

This angelic visage, however, was _rudely_ nulled by the deep, focused frown etched into Glynda Goodwitch's face. There was a cold drive shining in her eyes, and her mouth was set into a thin line as she strode purposefully towards the assembly point she had chosen. This was not a time for introspection or theorizing; she did not have the luxury of being a teacher at that moment. No, the situation at hand called for a more drastic type of person – the situation at hand called for a _Huntress_.

Mere _minutes_ beforehand, her scroll had rung incessantly, a shrill emergency tone sending the teacher's heart plummeting past her ribcage. At that moment, her fears and worries were confirmed, and _compounded_ , when she managed to read the message completely.

They had lost a Bullhead. Callsign "Bluecrane" had been downed a few miles from Mountain Glen – and the Huntresses aboard it, Team RWBY, had gone silent.

Her jaw clenched painfully as she strode towards the landing bay. In the distance, she heard a Bullhead's thrusters start up already – as though the pilot had caught sight of her already and had waiting until the _first_ glimpse of her to fire up the ignition. _Good_. Time and precision were of the essence – anything large enough to bring down a Bullhead, be it a horde or a single Grimm, could pose a threat to an unprepared team of students, and while Glynda had nothing but faith in her students – _especially_ the prodigal Team RWBY – gambling their lives upon _chance_ was something the Huntress _refused to do_.

The Team she had called upon to aid her in this rescue were waiting for her as she approached, seated in the Bullhead 'Blacksparrow's passenger bay already, buckled up and primed to go, their weapons stashed, but within arm's reach. She needed many things in her chosen team for this mission; strength, in case of the presence of a horde; precision, in case of overwhelming odds and small windows of opportunity; flexibility, to compensate for a vast array of theoreticals. But the thing Glynda needed _most_ was experience…

…and there was _one_ team who had obtained a veritable amount thereof mere _weeks_ prior.

Coco Adel leaned forward in her seat as Glynda quickly climbed into the passenger hold and took a seat. "We came as fast as we could, ma'am," she said, her usual confidence and easy-going demeanour notably absent, given the seriousness of the situation. "Something about a downed Bullhead?" The rest of Team CFVY all gave the teacher – the _Huntress_ – their undivided attention. Velvet Scarlatina, especially, seemed rather worried.

"Bluecrane," Glynda answered tersely, motioning to the pilot to get going. The bullhead's thrusters roared to life and the little compartment they were seated in lurched suddenly. It didn't bother any of the five passengers even a bit. "We lost contact with Team RWBY approximately eleven minutes ago," she said clearly, flicking open her large scroll. "They went down in Sector B-5-6."

"One of the hotspots," Velvet said, worry shining in her eyes. "I hope they're okay…"

"They will be," Glynda assured the girl. She did not offer a smile or a warm tone – instead she offered something greater; a steely, confident voice tinged with certainty and confidence – not in herself, or the team with her, but in the team currently in danger. "Not for nothing are they seen as one of the most promising teams of the first year." Smiles and encouragement worked well in certain dire situations. This was not one of them. Reassurance and faith would bolster Team CFVY's morale more than honeyed words and honest smiles ever could, given the situation.

Velvet, at the very least, seemed to take that reassurance to heart. A small smile stretched across her face as she sat back, her fingers tracing the edges of the brown-and-golden box she held on her lap now. "Wasn't Team RWBY sent out on a routine culling though?" Coco inquired, a confused frown on her face. "We know B-5-6 is a hotspot, but… enough to pull a Bullhead down? Were our scouts wrong?"

"We can ponder theories and possibilities when our Huntresses are safe," Glynda said, snapping her scroll shut and adjusting her sleeves. "Our priority is rescuing Team RWBY. Re-evaluation of B-5-6 and its surrounding sectors and amendments to our statistics can come _afterwards_. Their _routine assignment_ was annulled the moment their Bullhead went down."

"I can get behind that," Coco grinned. "So what's our plan?"

"We will need to improvise," Glynda responded morosely. "No matter how many outcomes we 'plan' for, we're still going in blind. We have no idea what's waiting for us in that Sector – so I want _minimal_ time on the ground. Precise, pinpoint extraction – open a breach in the enemy's numbers, extract our team and _leave_."

"Oh, Yatsu and I can give you a breach, ma'am," the fashionista replied, grinning at her colossal teammate as she patted her purse, alluding to the multi-barrelled instrument of death hidden within.

"That will do," the Deputy Headmistress nodded as she turned her gaze out the port-side hatch and into the distance, green eyes settling on the vast horizon. A knot of worry formed at the base of her throat, one she quickly swallowed down. It was irksome – the forward recon reports suggested a concentration of Beowolves and Ursai in Sector B-5-6 – but Team RWBY seemed to have found something _more_ there. Her jaw tightened again – faulty intel had been the doom of many an aspiring Huntsman or Huntress in the past. There was confidence in her heart, Glynda wouldn't deny – Team RWBY had been near prodigal as of late, excelling in teamwork, single combat and tactics and establishing themselves as prominent potential Huntresses.

But, she thought with a frown, they were not invincible. They were not flawless. They were not _experienced_ enough.

And lack of experience… had crippled greater teams than RWBY in the past.

She quickly took a deep breath, releasing the tension in her jaw as she reclined in her seat slightly. Letting her worries get the better of her was foolish – she cast her doubts away in an instant, allowing resolution and determination to steel her mind against such crippling things. She had faith in her students – they had survived worse situations than this. The Paladin rampage, the Breach – they'd shown a remarkable penchant for not just surviving, but _excelling_ under these conditions.

Doubtless they would do so again now – the Huntresses of Team RWBY seemed to find an _inordinate_ amount of strength in their bonds with one another.

Glynda could only hope that strength persisted, until rescue finally arrived.

* * *

Weiss' combat skirt splayed out around her as she pirouetted to the side mid-jump, supported by a glyph acting as a stepping stone – small, precise and sturdy. Her eyes narrowed in focus as a smaller Nevermore's beak nipped at the spot she had previously occupied, and with a refined twitch of her wrist, Myrtenaster's blade came around full circle. The immaculate steel bit into the avian creature's wing like a knife through butter, cutting through the flimsy radiale of the wing before severing the limb completely. The Grimm was sent crashing to the earth, hurtling forwards – and at the end of its trajectory…

Yang's eyes glowed red as the bird came hurtling towards her. With an angry grunt she quickly backhanded another Nevermore trying to divebomb her, sending the offending creature teetering to the side, before the blond brawler planted her feet in the ground and reared her fist back, the telltale sound of a shell being loaded quickly sounding amidst the din of battle.

Weiss returned her focus to her surroundings just as Yang's first tore clean through the car-sized Grimm's chest cavity with a thunderous boom, and already her keen eyes sought out her next victim or attacker – with just a hint of pride, she decided her next target would likely be both.

She quickly did an evaluation of their current situation. Of the twelve 'juvenile' Nevermores, seven had already perished, counting the one Yang had just turned to paste. Not without detriment, however – twice Weiss herself had been raked by the annoying pests' claws, and she remembered (with unwillingly precise detail) the event where Ruby had been divebombed by one of the fiendish things. Though no larger than a Beowolf, the attack had pounded the diminutive reaper clean into the ground, and had sheared off a large enough chunk of her aura to make an emergency note sound from the girl's scroll.

The Nevermore was promptly dispatched when Ruby appeared behind the thing in a flurry of rose petals, but it did little to underscore the shock of the moment.

Shaking her head, Weiss focused – five juvenile Nevermores remaining, plus the enormous one in the distance, the undoubtedly clever beast choosing to circle and study them, opting to rain spear-like feathers down on them from afar in earth-shattering barrages. They would have to deal with that beast soon – but first, they had to-

She blanched, and stumbled.

 _Something_ rocked her, then, shook her to her very core. It was as though a ripple had spread throughout her body, sapping energy and weakening muscle as her Aura flared to stave off the unseen attack. For just a moment Weiss' vision turned blurry, and she had to plant her rapier into the ground and use it to steady herself as her knees threatened to buckle, and all the while she fought the taste of bile swelling at the back of her throat. She felt something warm and wet trickle down the back of her hand and between her fingers, and with a sickly heave she lurched forward in place as her lungs constricted, forcing all the air out.

She distantly heard the cawing cry and the telltale surge of air that signalled one of the Nevermores initiating another divebomb, and with what little strength she could muster she tried to steady herself into a haphazard defence as her body quivered. From the top of her peripheral she could see the black blotch of the attacking beast, and with a shaky hand she raised Myrtenaster, hoping to at least manage to… to…

The assault never came.

Two arms wrapped around Weiss' midsection and _pulled_ , lifting her clean off her feet and eliciting a yelp of surprise from her. Red and iron glinted in her vision, and the Nevermore's battlecry turned into a shriek of shock and pain as it barrelled past her; the bite of Ruby's scythe had severed a wing, and mere moments later the avian monstrosity was silenced the bark of Yang's gauntlet discharging a fiery slug of death.

The world around her finally became clearer as whoever had saved her slowed down, and as she blinked the blurriness from her vision Weiss looked up and locked gazes with a set of amber eyes. Blake's expression was a mask of worry; her eyes were almost squinting and her mouth was twisted into a grimace, and the dim white glow on her face-

 _Wait._

 _Glow?_

Nervously and hesitantly Weiss raised a shaking arm, and she felt her heart drop as a slight glare stabbed into her eyes. She was wreathed in a dim white glow, a silhouette of sorts that framed her body, usually seen whenever she would take a blow. Her Aura, she realized. Her Aura was manifesting, and it _wasn't dying down_. Aura didn't normally manifest like this – it had to be called on consciously, it didn't just… it didn't just _happen_! This was…

Another spike of pain shot up her arm, and her stomach lurched and her vision swam in response. Dizziness, nausea – not enough to cripple; just enough to be an inconvenience, a liability.

 _Something's wrong_. It was a terrible thing to realize, but as Weiss struggled to her feet, fighting off the light-headedness that was currently trying to take root and _insisting_ she was fine, despite Blake's expression saying the girl obviously didn't believe her, it was something that could no longer be denied. She looked back at the bandage covering her hand – more fresh spots of blood had appeared on the white fabric, and a tiny trickle of it had leaked from under the covering and trickled down between her index and middle fingers. With an irate hiss, Weiss ripped the bandage off…

And promptly shuddered.

The mark had changed again. Whereas it had been a dark, inky lack, the brandings now glowed a bright red; as though it had _drank_ the blood she had shed. Her Aura, she noticed, also glowed more prominently around the etching.

 _Something is seriously wrong._

Another Nevermore screeched close by, before the wrenching sound of steel severing flesh and the booming retort of Crescent Rose's sniper function discharging silenced it in an instead. Before Weiss could wholly recover from her bout of dizziness she saw rose petals floating in her peripheral vision, and _concerned_ silver eyes gazed into her own as two hands settled on Weiss' arms. She was… thankful, for the extra stability it loaned her, especially since Myrtenaster suddenly felt so heavy. "I'm fine," she bypassed the question she _knew_ was lingering on the tip of Ruby's tongue. She steadied herself – it took more effort than she was comfortable admitting, but eventually she could stand on steady legs. Ruby smiled at her when she realized Weiss was going to be okay – but kept a steady hand on the heiress' shoulder regardless. The gesture… was more comforting that Weiss expected it would be.

 _Breathe in… breathe out_ …

Focus and discipline were tantamount right now. Goodwitch had set aside _numerous_ classes to try and teach them about this; mastery of body, mind and spirit offered valuable advantages in any combat situation, and to this extent, Weiss tried to channel the knowledge she'd been given. Breath in, breathe out – relax, _let go_ so to speak. All the while she flexed her aching hand; by the fifth flex she realized the limb was starting to go numb. Fortunate, then, it wasn't her dominant hand. Myrtenaster was still clutched in her left, poised to lash out at the first sign of an attack. Her bearings returned to her rather quickly, and the tremors running up and down her spine lessened considerably as she calmed herself and steeled her focus. "I'm fine," she said again, before glancing down at her hand. "But… _this_ isn't."

"Evac shouldn't be more than a few minutes away," Ruby assured her, scanning the skies. The remaining three juvenile Nevermores had fallen back, circling the Ancient one as it lazily drifted in circles around them. "We just need to last until then. Some fire support from their Bullhead wouldn't hurt either," she said with a wry grin.

Her jest was met with a resounding screech, a horrid, shrill sound that seemed to echo towards the horizon. The treeline at the edge of the clearing buckled and heaved and rippled like the surface of a verdant lake beneath the Nevermore's tremendous wingspan, and each beat of those colossal pinions kicked up debris and dust amidst the trees. "Incoming!" Ruby warned, adjusting her scythe and taking up a stance that would allow her to bolt at a moment's notice. Weiss herself followed this notion – and while her knees trembled just a bit as she bent them, she too was ready to spring into action – and the sound of guns cocking and blades being readied behind her told her Blake and Yang were accounted for as well.

The Nevermore saw this challenge, and greeted it with a hateful glare. It splayed its wings out, coming to a halt at the edge of the clearing and hovering there, before whipping its massive, plumed head back and screeching again. It was an infernal sound – it clawed at Weiss' hearing and made the earth beneath them quiver… and the echo it left spelled nothing but _bad news_.

From the darkness of the forest around them, they came. Accompanied by harsh snarls and vicious huffs, the Grimm started pouring from their surroundings, slinking out from between massive trunks and from beneath dense foliage surrounding the clearing they crashed in. Beowolves and Ursai – no Alphas in sight, but still enough to make Weiss' throat constrict slightly. The beasts regarded them with crimson eyes flush with hate and malice – and with the way their limbs were coiling, as though readying to pounce –

" _Diamond formation!_ Keep the Bullhead secure!"

The beasts attacked the moment Ruby's command was vocalized. With snarling contempt they launched themselves forwards, nimble Beowolves shooting around the lumbering Ursai's flanks with claws and teeth bared. Already her teammates weapons were barking around her – a high-impact sniper round tore a hole through a charging Beowolf's chest, and a loud _boom_ from Yang's gauntlets behind her elicited a sharp yelp of pain. Weiss herself quickly started to contribute, flourishing her rapier. Myrtenaster's chamber spun, and a red glow lit up along the sides of its blade. With practiced routine Weiss slashed at the air before her, as though conducting a symphony with her weapon, and with every delicate stroke a bolt of searing red shot outwards, banking left and right as it sought out a target. The smarter Beowolves tried to dodge, and were allowed yelps of surprise and agony as the projectiles tracked them through all their feints. The dafter ones were immolated before they even realized a counter-attack had started.

Weiss was forced, then, to dodge to the side, elegantly spinning out of the way of an infernal paw. She nearly stumbled when her stomach churned as she landed, but she remained steady. An Ursa had lumbered into melee range, and hat swatted at her with hate in its eyes – hate, and agony; the beast burned as it lumbered, set alight by the Heiress' dust. Its colossal form was wracked by tremors of pain – and a Grimm in pain was an easy target. With a deep breath, Weiss steadied herself an attacked. Myrtenaster bit at the Ursa's flank, exploiting the bubbling mass of flesh that _used_ to be the beast's eye. Slashes from her weapon did almost nothing – but as the cylinder spun again, and as the blade lit up an ethereal white, the wicked tip bored through the flesh and sinew of the monster's exposed joints. The flames had weakened its flesh somewhat as well. The Ursa bellowed and tried to swat at her – but its movement were clunky and telegraphed, and hindered by the obvious pain the thing was in. Weiss came full circle, appearing in the field of view of the creature's good eye. The foolish thing was still batting at its unprotected side – and as though sensing its imminent demise, exposed and flat-footed as it was, the beast's roar died down into a confused growl.

Myrtenaster's tip bored into the Ursa's eye socket, then, and buried itself halfway with a single precise, calculated thrust. Weiss' eyes were back on her surroundings the moment the beast went limp, and she quickly backed away lest it had _miraculously_ survived her execution. Her legs buckled slightly, and she gritted her teeth – but she steadied herself, retook to her stance, and Myrtenaster's cylinder spun again, going back to red just as two more Beowolves attacked.

They gave her not a moment's respite; with a stroke of smarts belying their bestial nature the Beowolves split off to the sides, attempting to pin her between their advances. Meaningless, really – she'd sparred against Blake before, after all, and _that_ was much more taxing and difficult than two lumbering beasts. With a flourish of her wrist a black glyph appeared on her right side, and Myrtenaster lashed out to the left. One Beowolf suddenly found itself lacking a paw, and the other was repulsed by the black glyph the moment its claws touched it.

Then her vision went starry.

Her aura glowed and convalesced around her right hand as another wave of aches assaulted her. It crept up her arm, spread across her shoulders and travelled down her spine as the weird rune on her hand seemed to _glow_ under the Aura gathering there. A wave of nausea rocked Weiss' form, and for a moment she lost her foot, _and_ feeling in her legs. With an angry grunt she dug her heels in, blinking away the spots in her vision as she kept her guard up. The now-pawless Beowolf growled, baring ugly fangs as it attacked again. It claws bounced off crystalline glyphs as it attacked, while Weiss struggled to regain her footing. Her throat constricted with every gasp of breath, and while her sword-arm remained strong, her knees still shook.

Disgraceful, how a simple Beowolf kept her on her toes. With a grunt of exertion Weiss feinted to the side; the Grimm fell for it, and the Heiress weaved in the opposite direction. Her rapier shot out, seeking soft flesh between the monster's ribs – but her right leg caved slightly as she went, and Myrtenaster's steel merely glanced against the thing's ribcage. Now anger bubbled in the back of her throat, lending more bitterness to the aftertaste of the bile she'd fought down earlier. Anger, and outrage – her eyes flickered as she quickly righted herself, pouring strength into numbing limbs through force of will. But now a hollowness was starting to form in the pit of her stomach, and already she felt fatigue seep into her shoulders and sting at the back of her eyes.

 _Later_ , she decided with a huff as she put some distance between herself and her target. She could lament her sudden frailty, and express ire at this damnable sense of weakness and tiredness _later_. Now, she was part of a team – a cohesive unit. That fact alone seemed to ease the ache in her shoulders slightly. With a trembling frame, she assumed her stance again, right foot forward, rapier poised to strike, parry or summon a Glyph to aid her. The crippled Beowolf before her seemed to sneer, its eyes shining balefully as disgusting plumes of black shot from its nostrils. A twitch of Weiss' finger set Myrtenaster's cylinder spinning again, switching it from red to pale blue, and despite the trembles running up and down her spine, she managed to stand tall – even if her breath now escaped her in tiny gasps and pants.

Something black flickered in her peripheral vision then, and a _tremor_ rocked her frame as something heavy collided with the white Glyph she'd summoned as a barrier _just_ in the nick of time. The Beowolf she had repulsed earlier snarled at her from behind the runic array, its claws digging into the barrier as it _glared_ at her with hateful red eyes. Its crippled companion took advantage of this distraction, _lunging_ forward with its remaining paw poised to digs its claws into Weiss' exposed flank.

Two glyphs shone beneath the Heiress' feet, and she propelled herself backwards just as the crippled Beowolf came close enough for its breath to lap at her face. The barrier she had summoned to keep the other Beowolf at bay dissipated, and the two lupine monsters hurtled into each other with enough force to elicit a sickening _smack_ as they were sent tumbling to the side. It gave her a brief moment of respite – one she eagerly exploited as she scanned the battlefield around her. No more Grimm were barrelling towards her – some teetered near the edge of the clearing, waiting for an opportune time to strike, while others were currently busy getting butchered by her team. But her only opponents were the two Beowolves at current.

A growl drew her focus back to the fight. The two Grimm had found their footing again, and glared hatefully at her. Despite her ragged breathing, and the trembles running up and down her legs, Weiss managed to raise her rapier and ready herself for their assault.

Black blurs rushed to meet her in combat again – and her rapier lashed out to greet them. Weiss flowed into a deadly dance around the Beowolves attacking her, alternative between swift offensive strikes and graceful defensive manoeuvres as she avoided the retaliatory strikes. The sudden numbness in her limbs and the nausea trying to push past her stomach had weakened her, physically – but her blade was still sharp, and her Dust was still deadly. One Beowolf made the mistake of going for an overhead swing; Weiss circumvented this by jamming Myrtenaster's tip into its sternum, and in a blink, a white Glyph sent webs of ice shooting around the beast's upper body. She wrenched her blade free of the ice, then, and quickly went for a backhand swing, her arm rattling under the impact as Myrtenaster collided with the second Beowolf's great claws and pushed them off their trajectory. The Grimm stumbled and went down on one knee, and Weiss promptly punished it by slamming her rapier's hilt into its eye.

A thundering crash behind her made her whip about again, just in time to see the once frozen Beowolf lunge at her. Wisps of smoke trailed from various cold burns around its torso, horrid patches of frosty scabbing devoid of even black fur. Weiss glared as she bent her leg, opting to go low and slip beneath the monster's guard for a crippling strike. As she dipped down, however –

Her heel slipped out from beneath her, and with a yelp the Heiress was sent tumbling down as the leaping Beowolf went soaring above her. A cramp tore at the muscles of her left calf while her right leg shook as it went numb, and _very_ briefly did Weiss taste bile in the back of her throat again. She heard a snarl behind her, and heavy footfalls sent vibrations through the earth beneath her. She propped herself on one arm, gritting her teeth as she blinked away blurriness, and a twitch of her finger switched glow on Myrtenaster's blade from red to yellow. With a heave she rolled onto her back, right hand shooting out parallel to the rapier's tip, and the attacking Beowolf's claw struck an intricate yellow glyph.

The Beowolf was offered scant moments to growl in confusion before spiralling tendrils of electricity arced around its body. Fleshed popped and whistled and its eyes shone yellow from the voltage, before another motion from Weiss spawned a black Glyph around the Beowolf's claws, and sent it flying over its recovering companion.

With a grunt of exertion Weiss pushed herself back to her feet. Myrtenaster bit into the pawless Beowolf's thigh as it tried to rise, and with a dainty twist of her wrist the blade came free and lashed upwards, intercepting the Grimm's retaliatory backhand by carving an inch into flesh and sinew. The monster tossed its head back and howled in agony, giving Weiss the opening she sought. With heaved breaths, she slipped beneath its arm and spun. Myrtenaster left a trailing arc as it followed the Heiress' spin, and the agonized Beowolf's howl was cut short as the rapier's needlepoint blade carved a fissure across its throat.

She didn't even watch the lifeless beast's carcass tumble to the ground. A growl from behind drew her attention, and a gasp of surprise escaped Weiss as she turned and found the second Beowolf already in her personal space, its wicked claws poised to lash at her face. With a blind stumble backwards, Weiss tried to bring up her guard, preparing to conjure a Glyph that could either help her escape or absorb the blow, but –

The loud _crack_ of Crescent Rose's sniper function sounded in the distance, the sound harsh and shrill to Weiss' ringing ears – but with a sickening crunch and the sound of shearing flesh, the sides of the Beowolf's head turned to giblets and blood splatter as the high-impact round tore its way through the beast's skull. In and out – the beast was dead on impact. Its corpse thudded onto the ground before Weiss' feet.

She shot a grateful glance to her team leader. The young red-clad girl was smiling in her direction, eyes shining with mirth despite half her face being hidden behind the sniper-scythe's scope. "Got your back, Weiss!" the girl called over, wrenching Crescent Rose's blade free from the earth she planted it in, and offered Weiss a cheeky grin. Weiss responded with narrowed eyes – Myrtenaster's cylinder spun and blue light engulfed the blade, and with a heave she planted it tip-first into the ground. A series of white glyphs shot out in a line towards Ruby –

…and proceeded to travel under her feet and beyond her, stopping at the Ursa that was trying to sneak up on the young girl. In a blink the beast's limbs were enveloped in ice – and in another, a glint of red and a loud gunshot signalled a giant scythe beheading the thing completely.

"…And I've got yours… " Weiss said with a shaky voice and a soft smile, as her leader offered her a grateful wave. With a heavy sigh, Weiss leaned her weight on Myrtenaster, using it as a cane from a brief moment. A quick check of her scroll confirmed her Aura was still in the high nineties – but she was so _exhausted_ at that moment it beggared belief. With a heave, she pulled her rapier from its earthly sheath, set away her scroll and…

Her eyes narrowed as she realized her shadow seemed to be… _growing…_

With a cry of alarm she quickly spun on her heel, just _barely_ conjuring a Glyph in time to take the brunt of the leaping Grimm' blow. The sheer weight behind the attack, however, made Weiss' knees buckles, and she was rather gracelessly hurled back as the Glyph gave under the beast's colossal strength. She wind was knocked out of her lungs as she slammed down on the ground, and only after several tumbles did she manage to right herself and clamber back to her feet, a hand pressed against her aching side as she glared balefully at her attacker.

She focused on the details; the limber, steady gait, the tense posture, the lupine snout and the broad shoulders. She saw the bony plates running down the beast's spine, stretching around and covering its ribs and travelling down its shoulders and arms, covering the limbs in chalk-white armour. She saw the skull mask, more detailed the rest, the eyes that glowed just a _bit_ brighter than a normal Grimm's, with golden embers burning in those blood-red pools, and the ears that jutted upwards, sharper, more alert.

The Alpha had finally arrived.

In the distance, Weiss observed from her peripheral vision, Ruby had noticed her stare-down with the pack leader. A trickle of concern and an ounce of fear crept into those silver eyes, visible at even this distance, and the leader's face quickly set itself into a wrought-iron mask of determination as she readied her scythe. _Don't_ , Weiss thought measuredly, not _daring_ to divert all her attention from the Alpha. _I can handle this_ … She gave her right hand an experimental flex – the nerves in the fingers were all but dead, but the tax she felt in the muscle creeping up past her elbow told her the limb would respond. All the while, Myrtenaster was held at the ready, its blade poised.

A tremendous shriek tore through the air then – a shrill, throaty bellow that set the treeline around them swaying. A massive gust blew through the clearing as the Ancient Nevermore finally deigned the moment opportune to involve itself in the fight. It slowed to a hover near the edge of the clearing, swept its hateful gaze across the battlefield, and reared its head back and cawed, a screech from hell itself aimed high at the heavens. Then, with a tremendous gust, the beast reared back, and _flung_ its wings forward. The volley of razor-sharp feathers that spewed forth whistled as they tore through the air. Team RWBY scattered immediately – Ruby herself leapt back in a flurry of red petals, Weiss propelled herself backwards with tremendous effort and the aid of a glyph, and a quick yelp of " _Get back!"_ from the other side of the downed Bullhead told her they had fallen back as well. The Ancient's Nevermore's feathers slammed into the earth of the clearing like heavy ordnance, raising clouds of dust around the impact, and Weiss nearly stumbled again as tremors coursed through the ground beneath her shaking legs.

Then the Ancient took off again, the gusts from its wings effectively dispersing the dust clouds. Weiss grimaced as she saw the beast's plan; the rigid, spine-like projectiles now jutted from the ground like a makeshift fence, effectively cordoning off some sections of the clearing and separating the team effectively. _Clever_ … She thought, righting herself as she directed her attention back to the Alpha who shared an 'arena' with her. The beast had leapt over the feathers proper, and stared at her with malice.

For a moment, she considered her options. Ruby was the closest to her position, and going by the middling amount of Beowolves that had trickled into her section it would take them not even a moment to dispatch them and turn their combined attention on the Alpha.

Then a spark sounded behind her, and cruel realization set in; the Bullhead was still directly behind Weiss – and the unconscious, _defenceless_ pilot was still inside.

It came down to a matter of prediction, of analysis. Ruby herself was fast – even _more_ so with Weiss' Glyphs aiding her. If they quickly dispatched the five-or-so Beowolves trying to hinder the diminutive leader, Weiss could quickly help Ruby shoot back to the Bullhead and 'dissuade' the Alpha from any course of action it could take. But that was a _maybe_.

And Weiss Schnee had little tolerance for _maybes_ – especially when a life was on the line.

Quickly she tested her legs again, resting various amounts of weight onto them to see if they could hold through the onset of weakness and numbness. While her knees shook, her feet held fast – that was good. With a sharp inhale, Weiss steadied her breathing as much as she could – ragged pants became slightly harsh inhalations, and some of her jitters running across her shoulders seemed to cease. With a resolute nod, Weiss shifted her footing – evenly spaced stance, one foot forward, right hand steady, and blade poised. The Alpha tensed up, noticing the Heiress' preparation.

For a moment, neither of the two blinked.

Then they attacked.

Weiss shot forwards, propelled by a line of glowing white Glyphs. She lacked her usual speed – but there was an advantage to moving at a slower pace. The Alpha reached her in record time, rearing a colossal paw back to swipe at her – only to strike air. Weiss effortlessly pirouetted out of the way, circumventing the beast's assault entirely. She didn't bother attacking, seeing the muscles in the Alpha's legs coil as it prepared to turn. Instead she conjured another Glyph, this one slanted at an angle, and leapt – she planted both feet into the array before _leaping_ , and she was propelled over the towering Alpha just as it spun around with a vicious backhand swipe. Myrtenaster's blade lashed out, carving a line across the eye socket of the Alpha's mask, and kicking the gelatinous eye held within _just_ enough to make the beast stumble.

Landing as nimbly as she could, Weiss set to work – her rapier's cylinder whirred as a red glow wrapped around the blade, and with a grunt of exertion she thrust the weapon clean into the exposed flesh behind the monster's knee. The flesh was set alight, and the scent of fire and char filled her nostrils. She had to back away quickly as the Grimm fell to one knee, its mass shaking the ground beneath her feet slightly, and with a frown of determination she took a step back and called upon her Semblance again. A veritable slew of Glyphs surrounded the Alpha, forming a pseudo-cage of symbols as the Grimm tried to decipher what was going on with a low growl of panic. Frowning, Weiss renewed her attack.

She darted from Glyph to Glyph, laying a barrage of stabs and slashes onto the hapless Grimm. More often than not her blade would skid across the bony armour the Alpha wore, and do little more than anger it further. But sometimes, her blade would find a vulnerable spot to bite into. Neck, joints, the tender flesh between its ribs – the Heiress assaulted these weaknesses at every opportunity, and soon enough the Alpha went from trembling with rage to whimpering in agony. This was good. Weiss landed on a larger Glyph, and bent her legs, preparing to propel herself forward and bury her blade in the Alpha's chest, and _end_ this fight before she could feel any more fatigued –

Something _hard_ collided with the side of her face, and sent the Heiress sprawling out across the grass at the Alpha's feet. Her ear rang and her face stung as her Aura worked at alleviating the traces of the beastly slap the Alpha had just delivered in its frantic attempts to swat at her. An attack neither instinctual nor habitual, the Heiress noted, seething through gritted teeth. Just frenzied – hard to predict.

She yelped as she felt the beast's massive hand seize her by the calf, and with an _earth-shaking_ roar the monster hoisted her above its head. Weiss gritted her teeth as pain flared along the joints of her leg, swiping futilely at the Alpha's face – then her world blurred, and with an ugly grunt the wind was knocked clean out of her lungs as the Beowolf _slammed_ her down on the unforgiving earth with all of its strength. Her Aura flared as it absorbed the impact, but it did little to alleviate the pain. The beast roared again, repeating its action, swinging her overhead in an arcing motion. This time she was slammed down face first, and a cry of pain escaped her as the impact sent a wave of pain across her face, chest and shoulders, and despite her best efforts that cry evolved into a whimper as the Beowolf repeated the action a _third_ time. She felt the tender earth give way under her impact the third time, and white spots filled into her vision as a harsh bark of agony bubbled up and poured from her mouth. The assault and battery had left her with minimal strength in her limbs, and only through force of will did her grip on her rapier persist. The Alpha spared her a hateful glare, before growling and tensing its shoulder, and Weiss' vision blurred again as the beast _hurled_ her away with all of its strength.

Pain wracked her frame as she bounced once, twice, _thrice_ , before her back slammed into something hard, cold and unforgiving with enough force to black out her vision and render her hearing dull and hollow for a few moments before she blinked away the darkness. She was flat on her face, she realized, and with a grimace she tried to fight the horrid taste of earth and grass in her mouth as she willed herself onto all fours, swaying under the thrall of dizziness and a fresh onset of nausea. Her limbs felt as though they weighed a ton each, and the numbness in her right hand had subsided, in favour of a new feeling: ever-familiar pain.

With an ugly heave, Weiss clambered to her feet, swaying dangerous as she tried to shake her daze away. In the distance she heard Ruby call her name, and from her peripheral she saw part of a normal Beowolf's… _something_ fly skywards under the assault from Ruby's scythe. But once more she kept her gaze locked on the injured Alpha before her. It was limping almost as badly as she was, and Weiss hissed under breath. If it hadn't been for this… this _damnable_ mark she could've killed this thing ages ago, she could've been _helping her team_ instead of floundering around like some greenhorn initiate.

The Alpha seemed to share her rage, if the glow of its eyes were anything to go by. Fifteen meters between them, Weiss estimated, hobbling with every step. She instinctively reached to ready Myrtenaster again – only for her left hand to make a fist. With an outraged, yet despondent growl Weiss noticed she had lost her grip on her weapon; the blade lay abandoned about four meters in front of her. Not much of a distance – but in her current state, it seemed _miles_ away. The Beowolf noticed her gaze, and let loose a roar of fury and hate – before shooting forwards with a speed _not at all_ natural for a beast with a crippled leg.

The sheer suddenness of it all made Weiss gasp, and with a desperate heave she pushed herself forward, half-jogging, half-hobbling and desperately trying to reach her weapon before the beast reached _her_. She could hear the monster's pants when she was mere feet from her weapon, and to her great ire she collapsed onto her knees again with a shaky yelp of surprise mere inches from it, and _again_ she heard Ruby call her name, the young girl's voice tinted with fear and worry. _Don't,_ Weiss thought, as she propelled herself forwards on all fours. _Don't worry. I can do this. I can –_ her fingers wrapped around Myrtenaster's hilt, and with a grunt of exertion the Heiress pulled her sword into position, still on her knees. The needlepoint tip was aimed right at the charging Beowolf, and her right hand was poised to call upon another Glyph. Barely, she noticed the tattoo on the back of her hand. Barely, she noticed how her Aura seemed to convalesce there.

And _just_ barely, she noticed when the marks started glowing.

With a _shuddering_ breath Weiss rocked in place – a wave of numbness, fatigue and _hollowness_ exploded in her core, and the mark on the back of her hand suddenly lit up in a _dazzling_ shade of white. It seemed to drown everything in brightness, to tear away every detail of her vision and drown out her sudden scream of pain at the _fire_ that seemed to inject itself into her arm in the bright void that poured forth from her weird tattoo. Distantly, she heard Ruby's voice again, yelling something incoherent before that, too, was lost to the dull ringing in her ears. The maelstrom that enveloped her was as a blizzard, stark and colourless, a void of white where every sound seemed to fade into a dull echo, and every blink sacrificed more and more detail in her vision to the bleak nothingness.

…And when Weiss' vision had gone completely white, she heard but a select few sounds in the sudden stillness.

She heard the Beowolf Alpha growl _menacingly_ , its fury seemingly rekindled.

She heard the elegant fluttering of fine cloth, and the sound of armour clinking and sliding against itself.

She heard a disapproving grunt, a melodious tone, despite how short-lived it was.

She heard the Beowolf's claws sailing through the air, intent on delivering a killing blow…

…and to her great _shock_ and surprise, she heard those claws impact against something, something _solid, immovable –_ before the dull thud of a blunt weapon slamming against flesh elicited a yelp from the Alpha.

Something went sailing through the air, Weiss noticed, as the brightness in her vision finally died down.

When detail returned to Weiss' vision, and the feeling returned to her body, she noticed several things with a stunned look on her face. She noticed the red rose petals surrounding her, and felt the tiny arms around her midsection. But there were no words of concern, no worried questions, no nagging admonitions to be heard. For even though Ruby was clinging to her, Weiss realized distantly – whether out of fear, shock or concern, the Heiress didn't know – the leader wasn't focusing on her.

Fair, though - because Weiss' focus wasn't on Ruby either, despite how close the diminutive reaper was holding her.

No, their joint focus, their _shock_ and awe, was directed at the tall figure that had appeared before them in the clearing – the one wreathed in spectral white light that seemed to _soothe_ the two girls, as his fine cape billowed in the onset of faint gusts the maelstrom of white left in its wake.

He was tall, Weiss noticed as she struggled to formulate words in the opaque glow. A cape coloured a rich lavender hung from broad shoulders and a sturdy back, and the figure stood with such confidence, it was as though his sheer posture was enough to draw all the focus around him onto his person. Shards of pearly-white steel wove themselves into a suit of immaculate ornate armour, the individual pieces slotting together with such perfect accuracy and precision that the whole _set_ seemed as finely tailored as the most expensive suits the Schnee family could ever afford, and in lieu of chain mail, fine purple fabric poked out from the pieces left exposed for manoeuvrability; inner thighs, inner arms, and even above the rim of the gorget, the fine fabric peeked out. His armour clinked and shifted as a gauntleted fist came to rest on his hip, while his other arm kept a _massive_ cross-shaped shield steady where it was perched on the ground. On his side hung an elaborately decorated sword, hidden from view, with only its silver-inlaid hilt exposed to the world. Weiss' breath hitched slightly when the Knight turned to look at her, suspense and confusion taking root at the back of her mind. Stark hair as white as her own, that reached down to the Knight's shoulders, drifted lazily as he locked gazes with her, and even with a few feet between them Weiss could _clearly_ see her reflection in those deep, violet eyes. The Knight's feature's seemed taken from a fairy tale; an unusually narrow face that nonetheless seemed hewn from bedrock. Strong, gallant, yet…

The Knight's eyes dipped downwards, and came to rest on the tattoo on the back of Weiss' hand. With a confused sound, Weiss followed the Knight's gaze – and jerked slightly when she saw that the array of marks was dimming slightly. They went from a bright crimson to an almost faded vermillion, and _finally_ the Aura coalescing around the limb flickered and disappeared.

Weiss looked up at the Knight again – only to blink in confusion as he gave her an outright _radiant_ smile. Perfect teeth peeked out from behind his lips, and violet eyes twinkled with mirth and excitement. "I see," he addressed her, his voice a subtle, soothing baritone; a subdued tone that clashed greatly with his ornate appearance. "It would seem I arrived not a moment too soon. I take it you are my Master?"

…

For a few moments, silence reigned as Weiss fought against the flush blooming on her cheeks. What a _careless_ thing to say! Such a phrase could be… could be _misinterpreted_ in so many different ways it wasn't even –

"Weiss?" Ruby asked beside her, her tone… hesitant. _Yes, quite like that,_ Weiss thought, quickly shaking her head as she tried to alleviate her blushing. She shouldn't be surprised that Ruby interpreted the Knight's phrase the wrong way; it was easy to forget the red-caped girl _wasn't_ as naïve as one would guess, given her age.

Weiss decided a _serious_ talk with Blake was in order, regarding exactly which of her teammate's books were 'readily available' for their young leader's perusal. "Before you ask," Weiss addressed Ruby, pointedly steeling her facial expression despite the tint of pink still lingering on her cheeks. "I –"

"You guys alright?" Yang's boisterous voice sounded above them, accompanied by the dull, metallic _thudding_ sound of footfalls on steel. Likely the girl had just scaled the downed Bullhead to see – _oh no_. Weiss eyes widened in panic, an action mirrored by Ruby, who was already struggling to get back to her feet. "The Grimm sorta stopped advancing, they're just lingering near – Oh. _Oh."_

Before either of the two could even utter a word – before Weiss could even _attempt_ to rise to her feet – Yang dropped down in front of her, fists raised and feet set into a defensive stance as she gazed at the Knight. Weiss could not see the brawler's face – but the way her hair glittered faintly in the early morning light told her enough. Ember Celica hissed and sputtered as fresh shells were loaded into their chambers, and Yang squared her shoulders. "Step back," Yang addressed the Knight. " _Slowly_."

Weiss desperately tried to stand up again, if only so she could readily diffuse the situation. The way the Knight raised an eyebrow at Yang's order – and did absolutely _nothing else_ – did not help matters much. Despite her most valiant efforts, however, her legs simply refused to work with her. The numbness had receded to a mere hollow ball in the pit of her stomach, but her legs… were still without feeling. A flash of black from Weiss' peripheral vision made her jolt – her hand reached for Myrtenaster, fearing a Grimm had gotten the drop on her – but a placating hand on her shoulder quickly made her shake away her paranoia. There was concern in Blake's eyes as the lithe girl knelt beside her. No doubt Weiss herself was in a sorry state, if the trembling arms and the cold sweat were any indicators. "Are you alright?" The girl asked, her bow twitching slightly.

"I…" Weiss made to respond, before her eyes dropped to the mark on the back of her hand again. This made no sense – the bright light, the pain, the Knight, and the fact that Yang reported the Grimm _ceased their assault_ the moment her convenient rescuer made his presence known. "I… I don't know," she answered numbly, her shoulders sagging. "I'm so confused… a-and I have so many questions… But…" Her gaze drifted to the edges of the clearing, where the Grimm lingered. Watching. _Waiting_. "We have more important matters to deal with. Yang!" She called to her blonde teammate. The brawler turned her head to face Weiss – but kept her gauntlets primed. Her eyes glowed red – anger and worry, and no small amount of nervousness, Weiss noticed. "It's okay," she said weakly, raising her arm. The limb trembled – so much so that Blake actually took her by the wrist to help keep it steady – but the glowing tattoo there was visible for the whole team to see. "I… I think he's on our side."

"That right?" The brawler asked again, turning her red gaze back to the Knight.

"Indeed," he responded with a confident grin, tilting his head so he could look past Yang. He locked gazes with Weiss again, and while merriment still twinkled in his violet eyes, a hint of earnestness shone through as well. "I suppose some introductions are in order," he said casually. "Servant Shielder, at your service, my lady. I have heeded your summons, and have answered in full, and hereby dedicate my shield and sword alike to your will, that I may bring you victory in this esteemed Holy Grail War."

Silence fell between them again, interrupted randomly by the growls and snarls and hisses of the Grimm gathering around them. The black beasts refused to attack, however – and Weiss noticed, with growing intrigue and _frustration_ , that their sights seemed anchored to the new arrival. "Riiiiiight," Yang nodded hesitantly as the shade of red bled out of her eyes, and with a blink her gaze was lilac once more. "Okay, let's pretend we all know what the hell you just said," she started, as she focused on the Grimm around them. "What now?"

"We still need to do something about these Grimm," Ruby said urgently as she quickly rose to her feet. "They're not gonna stay still like that forever. Who knows what they'll do once the rescue team gets here. We need to cull their numbers to make sure whoever's coming to evacuate us don't get overwhelmed." She turned an earnest gaze towards the Knight – Shielder, Weiss remembered. "Are… You're _really_ on our side here?"

"Of course." Shielder's response was instantaneous, and despite his lax posture there was a hint of steel in his eyes all of a sudden. "The fate of my Master, and those allied with her, is of great importance to me. Regardless of which enemy you face," he said, glaring disdainfully at the amassing Grimm, "I will fight by your side, no matter the odds. Such is the code of this humble knight." Weiss noticed a wide smile break across Ruby's lips, and despite herself, despite how _exhausted_ she felt at that moment, a small smile tugged at her own lips as well.

The moment was ruined when Yang turned a cheeky grin back at Weiss, eyes narrowed with mirth. "' _Master',_ huh?" She asked, seeming every bit the tease she usually was. "Something you want to tell us, Weissy?"

"W-Wha- _No!_ " Weiss fumed, scolding herself mentally as a dusting of pink returned to her cheeks. "I… I don't even know what's going on here!" She said finally, her voice cracking under the fatigue and the embarrassment. "What _are_ you?" She asked the Knight. "You said something about a summons? And Servant? And _what_ is a 'Holy Grail War'?" She rattled off. "Every time you say something it just gives me more _questions!_ "

The Knight – Shielder, she reminded herself again – regarded her with a solemn expression for a moment, a sad smile adorning his lips. "…You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, do you, my lady?" He asked. "I thought as much. Even I know an unwitting Summoning when I see one. No matter," he said, turning on his heel. With a grind of steel, he hoisted his shield up and steadied it on his arm. Weiss noticed an indentation in the earth where it had rested, and wondered just how heavy that shield must have been – and how _strong_ Shielder must be to wield it with _one arm_. "You have my word, I will tell you as much as I can when the opportunity presents itself," he said, eyes flitting from one Grimm to another, studying them, _analysing_ them. "For now, we have monsters to slay. Tell me; what would one call these beasts?"

The Grimm _balked_ , as though they understood his insinuation. They tensed as they lingered near the edge of the clearing, and the cacophony of growls and groans and snarls grew louder. They were becoming antsy, _restless_ , and Weiss was left wondering worriedly about how much time they had left before the beasts shook their stupor off and attacked.

Weiss' brow furrowed as confusion set in. She tried once again to stand, and this time even made a _bit_ more headway, before collapsing back down with an exasperated grunt. Blake kept her hand on the Heiress' shoulder, sympathy glowing in her eyes. "They…" Weiss started, her voice squeaking slightly, and paused to clear her throat. "They're Grimm, of course," she answered.

For a moment, tension seemed to seep from the Knight's posture as he glanced back at her, uncertainty and confusion set into his features. "What?" He asked, sounding _earnestly_ confused. "I get the feeling you're not referring to the author brothers, are you, my lady?"

 _Author… Brothers… What?!_ "What are _you_ talking about?" Weiss asked, frustrated by all the confusion and misunderstanding that had been sown in such a short timeframe. "What auth- _No._ Grimm!" She exclaimed. "You know! Soulless beasts, hate humanity, have been hunting us since man's conception into the world? The horde with no source or end in sight? Beasts of nightmare?" She rattled off. "Does any of this sound familiar?!"

"Not at all," Shielder responded grimly. "I do not recall any 'beasts' that have hunted us since our –" He trailed off; _something_ flickered in those violet eyes. Something that caused them to light up with an ethereal glow for a moment so brief, Weiss would have _missed it_ if it she weren't focusing so intently on his face. " _Oh._ " It was a simple statement, and a fierce expression settled on Shielder's face as he turned to face his enemies – _their_ enemies – once again.

"That… That doesn't sound like a good 'oh', Shielder," Weiss spoke up, panic and nervousness swelling in her heart again. The Knight had gone from cheerful, polite and gallant to focused, determined and… _conflicted_ in a matter of seconds – and some niggling feeling in the back of Weiss' head told her the Knight's change in demeanour had _nothing_ to do with the Grimm around them.

"It is not, my lady," Shielder confirmed. "It seems… that I am very, _very_ far from home," he said softly, ignoring the muttered 'No shit' from Yang as the blonde brawler regarded his armour. "No Clock Tower, no ritual, no m-" He stopped himself, frowning slightly. "Something is terribly wrong here… My lady," he addressed Weiss, looking over his shoulder slightly. "Is there someone in a position of authority nearby? A governor or king or the like? Even a General would do…"

"W-We… We could always try Professor Ozpin?" Weiss offered, an expression of concern on her face. Something had spooked the gallant knight before her greatly – and it served only to increase her discomfort. "He's the Headmaster of Beacon Academy, the place we're studying at, in order to become Huntresses. He's also a much respected figure in Vale – and…" She trailed off, gazing at the red marks now adorning her hand. "He's also got a personal stake in all of this," she said softly. "He has the marks too. As do several of his students."

Shielder regarded her for a moment longer – before seemingly noticing the conflicted expression on her face. He offered her a warm smile and a nod, before turning his attention to the Grimm in full. "That will do," he said simply. "He must be warned; I do not think this is a normal Grail War. But first… How would we go about culling these things?" He asked. It was obvious what he was referring to – the Grimm grew _violent_ at his threat, snarling and growling at him as they slowly, _cautiously_ moved forward. "Is there some manner of heart we can tear out? Cut the head off the snake, so to speak?"

Ruby was the first to respond. "Normally, uh, they're just mindless monsters. Some have a pack mentality, some are loners but they're all drawn to negative emotion, and they _hate_ humans from what we've learned," she recited quickly. "But… There have been cases… Back in initiation we came across two ancient Grimm. Once we killed them, the numbers of Grimm in the forest itself seemed to… shrink," she said, even going as far as to push her hands together – as though squeezing some invisible thing.

"I see," Shielder responded, offering Ruby a grateful nod. "And are there any Ancients present now…?"

Before any of the girls could answer him, a response to his question came in the form of a thunderous shriek from above. A tremendous shadow fell upon the clearing as the Ancient Nevermore returned to the fray, quickly swooping overhead as it drifted towards the massive congregation of Grimm forming at the far end of the clearing. It halted there, angling itself around on massive wings, and hovered ominously above its assembled kin. Those six red eyes glared at Shielder, as though sensing something about the Knight that _infuriated_ it to absolutely no end, and with a heave of air it shrieked again, an unholy note that seemed to reverberate in the assembled Huntresses' ears.

"Well, that answers that question," the Knight said with a shrug. "Heavens… What an abomination. I presume this is our Ancient?"

"Very ancient," Ruby concurred. "I don't think we've ever seen a Nevermore that big."

"These Grimm will scatter if we slay it?" The Knight asked, violet eyes locked upon the giant feathered monster.

"…We hope so," Ruby said, and with a cacophony of shifting steel and whirring inner parts, Crescent Rose was ready at her side. "If nothing else it should- _look out!_ " She cried urgently, tensing her legs and hopping back. Weiss noticed with growing horror that the Nevermore was priming its wings. Already she could see the razor tipped feathers peeking out from beast's plumage as Ruby's arms wrapped around her waist. Already Yang was turning on her heel to retrieve the pilot from the wreckage of the Bullhead, and Blake was struggling to help Ruby pull Weiss to her feet.

All the chaos and all the panic, however, was interrupted when Shielder's voice rang out, clear and concise, above the cacophony of panicked shouts and snarls and growls:

"That won't be necessary."

Weiss could only respond with a look of incredulity. "What do you mean it won't be necessary?" She cried. "That thing is about to bombard us!"

The Knight's smile, however, brimmed with confidence and valour. "I noticed," Shielder said with a serene smile. "And I know for a fact it will fail. Have faith, Master," he said, holding out a hand to placate them and convey the instruction to _stay put_. "Not for nothing do I bear the class Shielder," he said gallantly, hoisting the cross-shaped _wall_ he called a shield up high.

Weiss wanted to argue the point – she wanted to say that a simple shield, no matter how sturdy, could not repel a barrage that size, and she wanted to protest that despite the shield's _considerable_ width, it was impossible to slot six people in behind it. She wanted to chide the knight for underestimating the Ancient Nevermore, for approaching the current situation with such _carelessness_ and overconfidence – but all her complaints fell silent when a bright glow emanated from the cross-shaped shield. "W-Wha…?"

 _Something_ thrummed around the Knight. Streaks of lilac seemed to swirl around his figure, coiling around his legs and arms and spooling into a whirling cascade of opaque lights. His hair and cape billowed in a faint breeze kicked up by the sudden manifestation, and there was a _crispness_ in the air all of a sudden, a _presence_ that Weiss could feel creeping across her skin, and in response her Aura seemed to _light up_ as the strands of light caressed her. And all the while these tendrils of opaque light seemed to coalesce around Shielder, who was offering the assembled Huntresses a confident smirk.

"Weiss?!" She heard Ruby distantly, off to the side, despite the small hand wrapped around her wrist giving it a quick tug. "What are you doing? We need to-"

The Nevermore's war-cry sounded in the distance, muffled and drowned, but as its colossal wings short forwards, the _tremor_ that shuddered through the air towards them seemed to rock them where they stood – her body jerked back, as though caught in a gust of wind. She had to dig her heels in as the barrage bloomed across the sky, ugly black blotches across a lilac canvas that whistled dimly as they spun, intent on goring everything in the clearing. _So man feathers,_ Weiss thought as the grid of black appeared overhead.

And all the while, the Knight's smirk persisted.

" _Hey, guy!"_ The Heiress heard Yang yell over the din of thrumming light and whispering winds. "If you're gonna do something, _do it now!"_

Finally Shielder broke eye contact, and shifted his posture. His shoulders tensed beneath his cloaked armour, and both hands seized the steel enarmes with a rough grip. One powerful leg shifted forward and bent slightly, and the knight's smirk evolved into a toothy grin as he stared at the oncoming barrage. The opaque lilac swirls around him _sped up_ suddenly, and started writing towards the huge shield clutched in the Knight's hands.

With a grunt - a subdued, audacious half-chuckle - he raised the shield… and _slammed it down._

Weiss yelped and jumped as the earth beneath her _shuddered_. Bits of sundered earth leapt up into her face as the ground cracked and webbed and shifted under the force of Shielder's action, and the once opaque lilac lights _roared to life_ , turning a bright glowing amethyst as they wove together before Shielder. The thrum of energy turned into a deafening hum that seemed to linger just beneath the surface of her hearing. Then the shining lights took form.

 _A barrier,_ she realized, her jaw dropping slightly.

A spherical barrier had surrounded them, clear like glass yet aglow with dazzling light. It seemed to singe itself into the very ground around them, sparks and little tongues of purple flame flickering from where the dome-like structure dug into the soul around them. All the while tiny ripples of light cascaded upwards, towards the centrepoint of the dome, coalescing there and dispersing an a dazzling cloud of starry flecks of light that rained down upon the four Huntresses-in-training.

Easily forty feet across and twenty at the centre; manifested in the time it would normally take Weiss to blink. It even swallowed the Bullhead – and the trail it had carved into the earth – completely.

 _Impossible_ …

A statement hung on the tip of her tongue; a sound of surprise, an observation, a question, one of _many_ – but amidst the hum of power that seemingly fed the barrier, the telltale whistle of incoming ordnance grew ever louder, and to Weiss' shock she realized the Nevermore's attack was mere seconds from impacting – to such an extent she could _see_ the individual strands in those spear-like feathers. Her breath caught in her throat around the same time she heard the loud expletive from Yang, and the quick, panicked order of " _Brace!_ " from Ruby.

Then… _chaos_.

Weiss yelped involuntarily as the missiles hit home – dozens upon dozens of metres-long feathers rained down upon the clearing. It sundered the earth akin to artillery strikes, tearing soil and sending shards of debris and chunks of rocky earth skywards as thundering impacts rang in Weiss' ears. The ground trembled as though shaken by a monstrous earthquake and Weiss felt the soil beneath her feet giving way, shifting and sliding to the side, and with a desperate gasp the Heiress planted her rapier into the ground to steady herself. She felt one of Ruby's arms wrap around her midsection, and through squinted eyes she saw a flash of red as Crescent Rose planted itself into the ground to offer additional stability. The feathers slammed into the barriers with deafening strikes, reports akin to missile detonations, a thundering boom sounding with every razor-sharp feather that struck against the lavender barrier.

Gritting her teeth, Weiss sewed her eyes shut, tensed her shoulders and waited for the orchestra of destruction to die down. Ruby's hold on her remained – despite the tremors, despite the quakes, despite the deafening retorts mounting up so much it felt as though they were becoming a _tangible force_ that seemed to press down on the Heiress' shoulders, the leader's arm remained wrapped around her midsection. It offered a degree of comfort to the Heiress – at least she knew _one_ of her teammates was still okay.

Finally, the cacophony died down. The thunderous explosions faded, the tremors and the quakes ceased and the earth beneath Weiss' feet had finally settled. Hesitantly, she opened her eyes, clear blue trying to pierce through the settling dust – and finally, when the clouds of earthy smog settled, a slight yet _honest_ gasp of shock escaped her.

The clearing, once verdant and green and surrounded by high-rising trees, seemed a wasteland; upturned and unrooted earth, clumps of green grass torn up and tossed aside, with dark soil still clinging to the roots, mountains and craters of earth shifted that way from the Ancient Nevermore's attack, and dozens upon dozens upon _dozens_ of discarded feathers; some floating, some fallen, some impaled by knives. This, however, was not what shocked Weiss. No, the fact that had her gaping in a stupor was the fact that she was observing the carnage…

…through a lilac sheen of light.

Around her, Shielder's barrier still stood strong. The Ancient Nevermore's attack had decimated a clearing at least a fifty meters across. It had uprooted the very earth to such an extent that the untouched patch beneath Weiss' feet literally shifted and eroded – and yet, Shielder's barrier was unmarred; not a single dent, crack or scratch visible.

"What… and how?" She heard Yang mutter under her breath. Quickly Weiss looked around her, taking stock of her team. Ruby's arm was _still_ wrapped around her midsection, and for some reason Weiss couldn't really bring herself to pull the girl off, given how wide and awed those silver eyes of hers seemed. Yang and Blake stood off to the side, and both looked completely floored at what they'd seen. None of her teammates, however, seemed any worse for wear. In fact… Not a single scratch of harm had come to them.

It was oddity. An _impossibility_ , almost. _Winter_ couldn't conjure up a barrier strong enough to stop such a barrage, and Winter… Winter was _Winter_. Immovable, unshakeable. And here… Shielder had just done something even Weiss' sister couldn't. It was…

"Hmph," Shielder grunted, uprooting his shield. Whatever sustained the barrier seemed to disperse, and the lilac dome seemed to melt away, not so much _collapsing_ , but rather… fading, until nothing was left to prove it existed other than the small patch of unblemished grass they were standing on. "I honestly expected more from such a large volley," the Knight spoke casually, a balled fist coming to rest on his hip again as the tension melted from his figure. The Ancient Nevermore hovered in the distance, its six eyes glowing a hitherto _unseen_ shade of hateful red as it glared at the armoured warrior. It reared back and loosed a demonic shriek, one so fierce it travelled on heavy wind across the clearing and slammed into the group with enough force to bring most of them to their knees. Yang grunted, and Blake yelped slightly as they were knocked onto their rumps, and Weiss whimpered slightly as the shockwave buffeted her. Ruby, however, offered the Heiress that extra bit of stability, given her arm was still coiled around Weiss. The shockwave even sent the Knight's cape billowing dramatically – but whereas the Huntresses had stumbled and swayed under the roar, Shielder barely faltered, barely even _flinched_. In fact…

He seemed… _disappointed_. "It's awfully loud, for such a weak beast," he stated offhandedly.

Weiss' stomach dropped, and even Ruby offered a dull, confused "…Wha..?" upon registering the Knight's statement. _Weak,_ Weiss though shakily. _He thinks an_ Ancient Nevermore _is_ weak… She frowned as she looked at the Knight, still standing gallant and proud, even though more Grimm were starting to creep into the ruined clearing. She felt a hint of outrage bloom in her heart as even _more_ questions came to the fore. _What are you?_

A hum of contemplation escaped the Knight as he alternated his gaze between the Ancient Nevermore hovering above, and the congregation of Beowolves and Ursai looming in the distance. "Well, at the very least there's no shortage of horde for me to cull," he said humorously as he turned to face the assembled Huntresses. Violet eyes met Weiss' own, and despite the Knight's bold posture, he offered her a warm, honest smile. "Say, Master," he addressed her, beckoning to the humongous avian in the distance. "Would you mind terribly if I killed that thing?" He asked. "It's abhorrently vile."

Weiss… didn't quite know how to respond to that. For a moment she floundered, trying to formulate words into a coherent sentence. She wanted to argue the point, to ask him just what he meant by such a _casual_ statement. She wanted to ask just what the _hell_ he'd done to summon that barrier because it _certainly_ wasn't Dust. But as she floundered for words, she was fortunately spared the effort of formulating a response.

"…Are you fucking _serious_?" Yang asked, her voice tinted with equal parts awe, outrage and anger.

And Shielder, seemingly failing to pick up on the brawler's growing frustration, merely responded with a courteous chuckle. "Of course, my lady," he said politely, his chipper tone making Yang's frown deepen. "It is the role of the Knight to slay the wicked beast, after all. And I can assure you this is not the greatest monster I have fought."

"…He's serious. He's actually serious. I can't even- _ugh!_ " Yang groaned as she took a step back. "You honestly think you can do this? You think you can take _all_ of these Grimm? On your own? Do you even –"

" _Look out!_ "

Blake's cry of warning came the moment the Huntresses heard the sound; a whirring sound tearing across the desolated earth of the clearing, kicking up a cloud of dust as it went. A porcine squeal accompanied a wheezing, spinning sound as the Boarbatusk ramped over some upturned earth, barrelling straight towards the Knight. Weiss wanted to bark an order, instruct Shielder to _move_ because the Boarbatusk had obviously caught him before he could even raise his barrier. She noticed Yang, herself, struggling to formulate words.

But Shielder saw the approaching rolling mass of muscle and bone as well… and once again, the bold Knight smirked.

Without even a single sound of exertion he raised his shield up and rotated the arm wielding it inward, as though readying a backhand stroke with the colossal cross-shaped sheet of iron. His back tensed as he leaned back on his right leg just a bit, eyes narrowing as the Boarbatusk came sailing ever closer through the air. Finally, with a grunt and a _burst_ of strength from his arm, he swung – and the circular boss mounted upon the centre of the cross struck through.

Several sharp sounds echoed across the ruined clearing then. The dull _thud_ as the steel hit home against the spinning, rolling porcine wrecking ball was the _loudest_ , of course, and sent a hollow ringing note rippling across the decimated landscape. The loud squeal of the Boarbatusk as it came unfurled, halted in its track by the _unnatural_ strength and poise of the Knight's colossal shield, was the _highest_ in pitch. But the _sharpest_ sound…

That was the loud _crack_ as the Boarbatusk's back wrapped around the shield's boss, and the plates of armour adorning its back shattered like frail glass – along with the beast's spine itself, given the way its body twisted painfully as it impacted against the sheet of steel. Its high-pitched cry lasted a moment before Shielder applied the counter-force, and sent the broken, battered pig-beast soaring a good two dozen meters into the distance.

Without even waiting for the deceased beast to hit the ground, Shielder turned back to face the astonished Huntresses, the beginnings of a humble smile settling upon his lips as the young girls gazed with varying amounts of astonishment and disbelief.

"Whether I _think_ I can take them is irrelevant," Shielder said earnestly. "I am, first and foremost, a knight, my ladies. And as a knight, it is my oathsworn duty to protect the innocent, and to bear arms against those who would do them harm. I see here a mass of remorseless beasts, whose natures contradict all I stand for. I see a slew of monsters that would prey on civilian and defender alike. I see here… a horde of enemies," he spat, turning a baleful glare at the amassing Grimm. "And in the face of such an enemy, I _will not_ falter, and I _will not_ yield – regardless of what I think of their numbers." A resolute expression settled upon the Knight's face as he locked gazes with Weiss again. "With your leave, Master, I will fight these beasts. And for the sake of your survival… Regardless of the odds, regardless of the numbers – I _will_ win."

The declaration seemed to echo across the ravaged clearing. The Knight's pledge, the sincere oath he had taken and the vocalization of his ideals, seemed to lull the action in the clearing to a brief still. Weiss looked around at her team, to gauge their reactions. She still felt somewhat suspicious – how could she _not_? This night, this 'Shielder' had appeared from nowhere, mentioned things she had never heard of, and displayed strength, ability and endurance to shame most Hunters at the Academy. Around her, her teammates seemed to share her initial opinion. Yang still looked pensive – but did seem less tense after hearing the Knight's declaration, and Blake – despite the suspicion lingering in her amber eyes – had the beginnings of a small smile on her face. Ruby seemed the most taken with this new figure, if the smile on her face was any indication. But she, like the rest of Team RWBY, kept her distance. The crimson-clad leader met the Heiress' eyes, and – despite everything – shrugged slightly. Her free hand still rested on the shaft of Crescent Rose. " _You're_ the one he calls master, Weiss," she said. "What do you say?"

Weiss pondered for a moment, before testing her footing. Slowly, she pried Ruby's arm away, and kept one hand on the girl's shoulder, for support. Her legs trembled viciously where she stood, and it was only through wrought iron determination that she didn't fall back on her rump as she hastily adjusted her stance. "I don't… I don't know," she said finally, gazing at the white-armoured knight. "He just… This is all so confusing, I just… We don't know anything about you, Shielder," she addressed the Knight, who responded with an affirmative nod. "And… And by all means I _shouldn't_ trust you. You… I understand, you need to speak to someone in charge, and we'll likely learn more then. That… That just _screams_ suspicious. But…" She trailed off, looking at the ruined landscape around them. "You… You protected us nonetheless. I… For now, I'll trust you. Until I've learned more. I won't turn an ally away."

Shielder smiled. "You honour me, my lady," he said sincerely, before turning on his heel and staring down the approaching mass of Grimm. "Hm. Quite numerous. With luck I may even need to draw my blade," he said with a grin.

Weiss heard Ruby snort beside her before the diminutive leader turned to face her. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," Weiss responded quickly, tightening her grip in Myrtenaster's hilt. "We can't let him do all the fighting – even if he _does_ seem like he'd do it anyway. What's your plan? Do we- _guh!_ " Ruby caught her around the midsection again just as Weiss' legs gave once more, tremors running up and down the pale limbs as she clasped a hand over her mouth, fighting desperately against the acidic bile that tried to push past her throat. _Damn it all!_ She seethed as she fought to regain her balance. _Just what the hell is going on?!_

"The plan," she heard Ruby speak, the girl's arms still wrapped around her, "is to get you to a safe spot so we can try helping Shielder fight the Grimm. Even if it's just from afar." The smile on the girl's face was _audible_ as she started tugging the Heiress towards the Bullhead. Weiss only barely managed to fight down a squawk of indignation, _especially_ when she realized that trying to dig her heels in only meant that her feet would limply drag along the ground, and the amused chuckle that escape Shielder at the sight only _irked_ her even more.

"T-That's completely ridiculous," Weiss fumed as she tried – and failed – to fight against Ruby's grip. "It's a simple onset of dizziness, just give me a few moments to regain my bearings and I'll be fine!" Again, she tried to dig her heels in and push away from the crimson clad leader – for naught. Her arms gave at the slightest ounce of pressure, one flopping listlessly to the side, and while her legs _moved_ at her command they lacked the strength to really find footing or anchor her. This just served to draw a frustrated groan from her, as she feebly tried to regain her balance. "Just- Just let me _stand_ for a mo- _hurgh!_ " She jerked in Ruby's grip, and a numb arm shot up to clamp a hand over her mouth. This time the acidic sting of bile was prominent – and as she forced it down she felt the last vestiges of strength leave her. She groaned when the shadow of the Bullhead fell over her. "This is so… pathetic…"

"Nah," Ruby responded positively. "Something's got your body all messed up. We can't expect you to fight like this. Hey, Yang! Mind giving me a hand?" She asked over Weiss shoulder. The Heiress tensed slightly when she heard the boisterous blonde's ' _Sure thing!_ ' in response, and her heart sank slightly when she heard the thudding footfalls on the iron floor of the passenger bay behind her. Ruby noticed the expression on her face, and giggled a bit. "What? It's not like _I_ can lift you by myself, y'know."

Weiss opened her mouth to retort – only for a high-pitched yelp to escape her as two strong hands seized her beneath the arms and hoisted her up before depositing her on an unoccupied seat in the Bullhead's passenger bay. It was the one closest to the port hatch, Weiss noticed as she sat there, simmering in her outrage. She glared at Yang – only to look away with a huff when the blonde merely offered her a cheeky grin and a thumbs-up. "This is… This is _ridiculous_ ," she repeated with a huff, crossing her arms – partly to showcase her ire, partly to contain the tremors running up and down the limbs. "This is… We are a _team_ ," she stressed. "I should be _fighting_ , not sitting her like some… like some high-priority civilian! I should be _helping!_ "

"You _did_ help," Ruby placated her, shooting her a consoling smile. "You're _always_ helping. When we're out in the field, you're always trying your best to keep track of us, and always trying to help us. You have been, since Initiation," the leader grinned, "and every major event since then. Torchwick's rampage in that Paladin, the train, the Breach, and even our previous culling missions – you've always got your eye on some bigger picture, always helping us out. You… You always _worry_ about us. And we appreciate that. Which is why…" She trailed off for a moment, before smiling again. "Let _us_ worry about _you_ for a change, Weiss. You're obviously exhausted, and we understand that, no matter how much you beat yourself up over it. We didn't put you in that Bullhead because you're a 'civilian' or a 'high-priority asset', Weiss. We're putting you there because you're our _teammate_ , and we're worried about you, and want you _safe_. You're up there because we want to look out for you, Weiss. Because that's what teammates do."

Weiss fumbled for a minute. _T-This girl… Honestly…_ She struggled to formulate a response to that statement, and was helped in _no way at all_ by the agreeing smiles on Blake and Yang's faces. A part of her still felt that this was unacceptable – she was a Schnee, she was a _Huntress_ – backing out at the first sign of getting tired seemed… _preposterous_. But… In her heart, the Heiress realized, that she'd be of no help in her current state. Especially not with this _damned_ mark messing with her health. "I… I'm not happy about this," she said with a huff.

"Mmmm… Nope!" Ruby responded cheerfully, lightly punching the tip of Weiss' boot as her feet dangled outside the port-side hatch. "But you _are_ safe – so you can be happy later. That makes us happy," she said simply.

"If it is any consolation to you, Master," Shielder spoke up in the distance, thankfully sparing Weiss a response as she fought against the flush rising in her cheeks. She quickly diverted her gaze to the knight – and found a knowing smile and a soft gaze on his features. He placed a gauntleted hand over his chest, and nodded. "You have my solemn oath: I will allow no harm upon your friends."

For a moment, Weiss struggled with her words. A part of her wanted to remain stubborn – a part of her wanted to _insist_ that they at least hand her rapier to her so she could assist with Dust and Glyphs. A larger part, though, saw the expressions of her friends. Ruby's caring smile, Blake's knowing one, the confident grin and posturing from Yang – even Shielder wore a smile of confidence and reassurance. And in the face of such expressions, it was hard for Weiss to keep fighting. With an enormous sigh – one that made the Heiress realize _exactly_ how tired she was at that moment – she slumped back in her chair.

"Hell yes," Yang hollered, pumping a fist into the air. "I'd say that's a 'do what you want' if I've ever seen one. What's the plan, Rubes?" She asked eagerly.

"Well, Shielder _did_ say he'd be our frontline," Ruby said, her eyes aglow as the gears in her head whirred and churned. "He might be strong, but we still can't let him fight alone," she summarized, "but we can't leave the Bullhead unmanned either. So we set up overwatch here, I think. Yang, you're on close range defence; we need you here, inside the passenger bay, in case any Grimm slip by us. Ember Celica works best at close range. Blake," she said, turning to face the bow-wearing teen. "You're quick, with a nifty semblance and a very versatile weapon. You're on mid-range defence; alternate sides between port and starboard and try to set up funnels in case any Grimm manage to slip past you. Herd them into our shots. I…" She trailed off, looking up at the ceiling of the bay. With a few whirrs of shifting parts, her scythe collapsed back into its compact rifle form. "I'll be up top. Long-range defence and fire support for Shielder. And if things go pear-shaped…" She said, patting the cartridge of Gravity Dust rounds hanging on her hip. "I can make enough of an impact to let one of you get close, if Shielder gets overwhelmed."

Despite her best efforts not to, Weiss found herself beaming. If there was one thing she had been _completely_ wrong about at the start of the year – _one thing_ that she would admit to being wrong about without a hint of pause or hesitation – it was Ruby's ability as a leader. She had showcased it during Initiation, she had showcased it during Torchwick's Paladin rampage, she had showcased it during the Breach… and she was now showcasing it here.

Months ago, she would have laughed if someone ever told her she'd end up feeling hints of pride toward that 'dolt' Ruby Rose. Now… Now she realized irony had a sense of humour after all.

She'd never been more content at being proven wrong.

"A grand plan, if ever I've heard of one," Shielder commented in the distance. He was positively beaming as well. "My Master is fortunate to have such capable friends."

Ruby seemed to shine under the praise just a _bit_ , before she rooted herself back in reality. With an order of " _Deploy!"_ she disappeared in a puff of rose petals, and two light, dainty footsteps echoed above her. Blake suddenly disappeared as well, melting away in shadows as she clone she'd replaced herself with evaporated. She stood outside, Gambol Shroud's twin blades at the ready, and across from Weiss, Yang remained standing – her gauntlets primed, and her posture _ready_. "Got your back, Shielder!" She heard Ruby cry above.

"As I will have yours, my ladies," Shielder responded, turning his undivided attention towards the amassing Grimm. "For such vicious beasts they certainly have a tendency to cower. 'Tis as though they await an invitation," he said with a grin. His free hand reached up towards his neck, and with a _click_ of steel his lavender cloak seemed to fall away, _flowing_ off his arm form before _disappearing_ in an array of tendrils of pale light – much to Weiss' amazement. The knight cracked his neck, before hoisting his massive shield up again. "On your command, Lady Huntress."

For a moment, silence fell upon the battleground again. The Grimm uttered nary a sound as they tried to stare down the lone white knight before them. Then, a loud gunshot rang out from atop the Bullhead – a vicious, deafening bark – and a lone Beowolf dropped in the distance, dead in a blink. That single gunshot signalled the resumption of hostilities – the Grimm erupted in a buzz of murderous shrieks and growls, lumbering forward in their dozens as the Ancient Nevermore hovered overhead.

And yet, Shielder remained unfazed. His legs bent and his shoulders tensed only slightly, and for a moment – a fleeting _moment_ while he was still visible – Weiss beheld an aura of lavender light surrounding the white knight. It made his armour shift and clink, and caused his hair to sway as though caught in a light breeze.

Then…

Then the knight _moved_.

It happened in a fraction of a second; roughly the time it took for Weiss to blink. By the time the ground Shielder had stood on _ruptured_ and exploded upwards under the force of his kick-off, that giant shield had slammed into an Ursa _dozens_ of meters away with enough force to _shear_ its way through flesh and bone. The beast collapsed, its left side a mangled mess, and a confused groan escaped it before it started to evaporate.

It was… _surreal_. Shielder moved with a speed Weiss hadn't even seen _Winter_ reach, flitting from Grimm to Grimm, culling them by the handful per moment, and she had to _strain_ her eyes to keep up with his simmering form. The cross-shield's circular boss slammed into a Beowolf's face with enough force to _pulp_ it entirely, and propelled the now dead Grimm into another with such force, the spines on its back embedded themselves into the second Grimm up to the _root_. Three Beowolves tried to get the drop on the knight, then – to no avail. The length of the shield's cross-shaped base slammed into one Grimm's cut with enough force to tear its way through flesh and bone, effectively impaling it, and with a grin Shielder _wrenched_ the weapon free and spun, dragging the same length across one Grimm's throat – eviscerating it through sheer force in the process – before slamming the circular boss into the third Grimm's waiting maw. The steel severed tender flesh lining the edges of the beast's mouth, and tore its way through muscle and sinew and when Shielder's spin was completed, the top half of the third Grimm's head fell to the floor.

Three more Grimm fell before the skull-like dome could even impact the ground – all eviscerated by the sheer strength behind Shielder's attacks.

It was phenomenal to witness. Weiss herself had heard many a time of shields used by Huntsmen and Huntresses, often sharpened to provide a cutting edge alongside its capable defences. Beacon's own Pyrrha Nikos sported one such shield – Akuou's edges were sharpened quite finely, at that.

What Shielder did… was _much_ different, Weiss realized as he slammed the instrument into the back of an Ursa he'd sidestepped with such speed, the beast _lost track_ of him. The force behind the blow snapped the beast's back and pushed its severed spine forward so far it actually pierced through its abdomen, a bit, and without even _waiting_ for the bear-Grimm to fall, Shielder scooped a second Ursa's legs out from under it, before raising his shield above his head and _slamming_ it down on the beast's exposed chest, caving in its chest cavity in the process. That cross-shaped shield was _not_ sharp. Even Weiss could tell as much. There wasn't an ounce of cutting power in that tool, neither on the cross-shaped base nor the large, circular boss. That shield did not cut; it _tore_ , steel rending flesh apart like dough through the sheer brute strength behind Shielder's attacks.

It was… _mesmerising_ , in a way – to such an extent Weiss only noticed the telltale reports from Crescent Rose at that very moment. Even Yang seemed to be a bit distracted, if the awed ' _Woah…'_ she had muttered under her breath was any indicator.

This… This was beyond them, Weiss realized as she tried to keep track of Shielder's movements as the knight butchered Grimm by the dozen. The only glimpses of his form she managed to catch at any moment – apart from the glint of his armour as he zapped from target to target faster than even Ruby could – was when he slowed for that _crucial_ second to ruin the next Grimm's day, before disappearing to a different corner of the fray all over again. This… This was akin to _veteran Huntsman_ levels of skill and ability. Shielder moved faster than Winter, seemed to have strength on par with an angry, low-Aura Yang and had killed more Grimm in a few moments than Team RWBY had during the whole assignment… _with nothing but a large, bulky shield_.

Finally the Knight's figure came to a halt, skidding back a few feet in the dirt as he dug his feet in. He was surrounded by at least twenty dead Grimm – and those were the ones who had _yet_ to dissolve. The rest… seemed to be backing away. Weiss blinked in confusion at first – until the heard the deafening screech of the Ancient Nevermore above. The beast seemed _phenomenally_ furious, its plumage puffed up to ridiculous proportions as every beat of its wings seemed to propel in higher and higher into the air. Shielder – much to Weiss' incredulity – merely offered the beast a cheeky grin, raising his arms as though to taunt the avian – as though he were asking something _ridiculous_ and abrasive like "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

The Nevermore took this gesture as a challenge – one it _heartily_ accepted as the rest of the Grimm retreated back to the edge of the clearing. With a shrill shriek it folded its wings in and _dove_ , its descent downwards eliciting less of a whistle and more of a _roar_ as it came plummeting down. Shielder grunted as he raised his shield again – he set his legs further apart, tensed his back and _slammed_ the cross-shaped instrument into the ground, and with an _orchestra_ of comforting hums and dazzling lights his barrier re-manifested, glowing audaciously bright in the face of the Ancient Grimm's onslaught.

Only at _this_ distance did Weiss notice how large it was; it could _easily_ cover Goodwitch's sparring hall, and _then some_.

The Nevermore shrieked, seemingly _insulted_ at the defence erected to ward it off. Already, its talon flexed, and its legs prepared to shoot out and tear the confident knight to ribbons. Already, a gaggle of Beowolves shot further into the clearing, young and reckless, intent on finish the fight if the Nevermore's divebomb didn't. And yet… Shielder did not move. He did not even _falter_ , despite the tonnes of avian muscle bearing down on his position. The barrier hummed and glowed ever-brighter, and when there was but ten meters between the gallant knight and the wicked beast, the Nevermore's legs shot out and _lashed_.

The impact loosed a shockwave that made the Bullhead _rock_ heavily; Yang yelped in surprise and to Weiss' great shock the tip of Crescent Rose punctured through a flimsier area of the craft's roof, near the hatch, in order to grant Ruby extra stability. Uprooted earth was _thrown_ aside, taking the clouds of dust with it as the shockwave shook the very treeline surrounding the clearing – and soon enough, a shriek accompanied the thunderous boom of the shockwave.

A shriek of _pain_.

Weiss dared to look – and felt her stomach churn immediately at just how _beyond belief_ the sight before her was. The Nevermore was frantically beating its wings, trying to push itself back into the air despite the _quakes_ of pain rocking its massive form. From the lower part of its body, its legs dangled; limp, broken, malformed and twisted – and every sharp talon adorning its legs had shattered like glass.

And beneath its retreating form, Shielder's barrier stood unscathed and unblemished; and the Knight himself, still in the same posture; casual, relaxed, _bold_.

Weiss' eyes widened as the barrier suddenly dispersed into an array of lilac streaks. They floated down to the ground, pooling around Shielder's feet as the knight bent his legs and pulled his shield aside. Violet eyes locked upon the retreating avian, heedless, _careless_ of the pack of young Beowolves fast approaching. With a _thunderous_ crack, Shielder leapt – an explosion of lavender propelling the knight high into the sky, surpassing even the Nevermore, as his takeoff sundered the earth below and left a tendril of dust arcing behind him. Ignoring Yang's startled cry of " _What the hell?!"_ , Weiss tracked the knight's ascent. As he reached the apex of his leap, he spun, building momentum – once, twice, thrice, and by the fourth spin, _both_ his powerful hands were wrapped around the enarmes of the shield. The grin on the knight's face could be described as nothing less than _absolutely audacious_ – and with a heave of breath, Shielder _hurled_ his cross-shaped shield at the Nevermore.

By now, Weiss was expecting many things. She had seen Shielder's strength in action by now, seen how it had forced a blunt wad of steel through flesh and bone, and seen how his powerful footfalls sundered the very earth beneath him. Weiss expected something similar when that shield collided with the Nevermore's chest.

What she _hadn't_ expected was for the avian monstrosity to _jerk back_ as though something with weight equalling its own mass had just struck home. One moment the beast was batting its wings, trying to ascend, and the next moment it had been _jerked_ earthwards under the impact of a flung sheet of steel. The Nevermore was sent _plummeting_ to the earth, landing with a mighty crash, a literal plume of dust and an excruciated shriek of pain. Weiss heard a hearty laugh as Shielder came plummeting down as well.

She gasped as she saw the Beowolves gathered at crater Shielder had caused when he leapt – already, their gangly limbs were bent and their backs were tensed, their tongues lolling from their mouths as they prepared to leap upwards and sink their claws into the falling Knight's flesh. Weiss made to call out to him – to warn him of the fact that _four Grimm_ were waiting for him down below. Her mouth opened as the beasts leapt, a hungering growl pouring from their throats – but she faltered, as she saw the knight's grin widen…

…and his hand seized his ornate sword by the hilt.

With a _flash_ of silver akin to moonlight, and a shrill song of steel upon the wind, Weiss was made to blink as the glare stung at her eyes. When she opened them again, after a fraction of a second, Shielder's blade had been unsheathed. Four feet of immaculate steel glimmered akin to moonsilver in the morning glare, the flawless blade running into a modest, wide crossguard and an ornate, jewelled hilt.

Around the knight, the eviscerated carcasses of the seven Beowolves plummeted to the ground – slain in time it had taken the Heiress to blink.

Weiss expected another harsh boom when the Knight's feet finally touched down on the ground. She couldn't say she was disappointed when she heard but a loud _thunk_ of steel instead. Shielder rolled his shoulders, his large blade gripped firmly in his right hand as his white hair billowed. More Grimm had poured forth – Ursai and Beowolves – in a bid to protect the downed Ancient as the avian struggled to regain its footing. Two Ursai lunged first – Shielder's form blurred, and a lingering trail of silver was all that was left for Weiss' eyes to track as the beasts split apart; one cut cleanly in half, one severed from ribcage to shoulder. The knight's form had become downright indiscernible in the carnage that followed – with mounting worry Weiss could only follow the flickering trail of silver as the sound of rending flesh sent dead Grimm and severed body parts flying in all directions. More and more Grimm started backing away from the downed Nevermore, realizing that despite their numerical advantage they _weren't_ going to win this battle, and they retreated back into the treeline leaving only the dregs of younger Grimm to scurry about.

 _There_.

A flash of white plate quickly caught Weiss attention. Shielder had broken through the veritable wall of young Grimm surrounding the Nevermore, and was charging straight at the monstrosity at such a speed Weiss had trouble tracking his movement. The Nevermore, having flopped onto its belly in a way to free its wings, screeched in both surprise and rage as it reared its head back and readied to peck at the approaching warrior. It splayed its wings out to the side and its beak _lashed_ forwards, blurring as it struck at the knight approaching it. It pierced through soil and bedrock alike – but it missed its target completely.

And in its attempts to challenge Shielder, it had played right into the knight's hands.

With a grunt, the ground beneath Shielder's feet shifted as he leapt. One had was stretched before him, seemingly guiding his next attacking, while his other arm aimed his great blade right at the joint of the Nevermore's wing, its tip gleaming threateningly in the light. A gemstone mounted on the crossguard lit up like a stark ember, and a literal tongue of searing, blistering _white_ wrapped itself against the incandescent steel. It was as though a sheath of crystalline flame had engulfed the weapon, a sharp cone more akin to the tip of a colossal spear than an actual sword's blade. The fiery plume of flame hissed and crackled, and with a resolute war-cry, Shielder drove the weapon forwards and clean into the Nevermore's wing.

With a _hiss_ of burning flesh, the feathery limb seemed to disintegrate at the point of contact; the joint itself turned to sickly, smoking ashes in an instant and the tongues of silvery fire seemed to lap at the rest of the wing, greedily burning as much as possible. When the light finally died down the Nevermore had but a few feet of wing left on its right side – and it lurched forward and heaved, seemingly in so much pain it couldn't bring itself to even screech.

Shielder, however, was not finished. He leapt again the moment his feet touched ground, once more propelling himself high above the Ancient Grimm. With a burst of lilac light his shield manifested on his left arm again, the sudden excess weight bringing the Knight plummeting down on the Nevermore's now exposed neck. The cross-shaped shield slammed down right on the knot at the top of the bird's spine, burying itself right up to the circular boss, and _this_ time the Grimm _did_ screech; it screeched loudly, _hellishly_ , an echoing, jittering, quivering cry of animalistic agony as it _whipped_ its head upward in a bid to dislodge the steel caved into its neck. This action sent Shielder skywards again – and now, Weiss noticed, the Knight prepared the felling blow.

A flourish of his wrist flicked his sword into a reverse grip. Both hands seized the ornate hilt as Shielder began his descent, and once more that sheathe of fiery light enveloped the blade. Shielder became akin to a comet plummeting towards the agonized Grimm, a shooting star turned sharp and deadly in its descent, and with a loud, victorious cry, Shielder stabbed downwards, into that weak fold between black flesh and white mask.

The Nevermore's head was immolated, _disintegrated_ almost instantaneously. Glowing, hateful red eyes were replaced by shining white light in a blink, before the bony mask itself started sundering into millions of ashen flecks as the beast's head, beak, neck and shoulders turned not nothing but smoky vapour. The stark white comet slammed down on the earth and snuffed itself then, revealing a kneeling Shielder with his blade planted firmly into the ground…

…and then, with a terrifying, thunderous boom, the beheaded, mangled corpse of the Ancient Nevermore slammed down on the ground behind him – instantaneously smote by the dazzling white light of Shielder's blade.

For a moment, Weiss was rendered speechless. An Ancient Grimm, one that would likely have taken _several_ of Beacon's teams to put down – had just been slayed by one man, an archaic knight who appeared from nowhere wielding an array of abilities Weiss simply _could not_ attribute to Dust or Aura. It was confusing, it was frustrating, it was _exasperating_ …

…but most of all it had been surreal. Beholding this Knight in action… it had almost taken her breath away more than once. And going by the shaky exhale from Yang beside her, Weiss figured she wasn't the only one.

Lilac light shone in the distance again as Shielder rose to his feet and sheathed his sword. His lavender cape materialized upon his shoulders again, held in place by modest pauldrons and a clasp upon his gorget, and his colossal shield seemed to weave itself into existence from the whirlwind of light surrounding him. With a grunt, Shielder lifted the shield and slipped it onto his back – before turning to face the remnants of the Grimm horde, and offering the assembled beasts a confident smile – as though _daring_ them to attack again.

The remaining Grimm – young and reckless as they may have been – frenzied in the absence of their Ancient leader. But even they knew fighting now was suicide. The Knight who had slain the Ancient Nevermore could likely have culled the remaining Grimm youths bare-handed. With that fact in mind, the Beowolves all hissed and growled and roared at Shielder – but slowly turned tail, and fled back into the forest.

Weiss released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Ruby and Yang's cries of victory and cheer were lost on her; they sounded muffled, muted as she gazed into the distance at the figure of the Knight standing there. A flash of violet met pools of blue, and even at that distance Weiss could make out the serene smile on Shielder's face – before the Knight disappeared in a shower of golden dust.

"W-What the hell?" Yang blurted besides her, cutting off her own triumphant cheer as she frantically looked about. "Weiss, where'd your man go?!"

Weiss sputtered as she glared at Yang, heat rising to her cheeks again. "I'll have you know he's _no such thing_ , Xiao Long! And I'd _thank_ you not to make such insinuations in the future! Honestly…" She huffed, shifting forward in her seat with a look of annoyance on her face. "Besides, I don't know-"

Then, with whispered hum of energy, the white knight materialized before them again – mere feet from the Bullhead.

The result was instantaneous – Weiss yelped, quickly shifted back into her seat and nearly toppled off it as the numbness in her arm weakened her grip. Yang quickly backpedalled, uttering a shaky "Wh-wh-what the hell?!" as her back slammed into the steel wall of the Bullhead's passenger bay and above them, a loud yelp from Ruby was followed a slipping sound of boot sole on steel, followed by two loud thumps and an abrupt cry as the diminutive leader went tumbling off the downed craft.

Weiss reseated herself shakily, her breaths escaping her in short gasps. "W-what was that?" She breathed. "You can… what, teleport? Turn invisible?"

"Turn spiritual, more like," the Knight corrected her. "See it as a form of disembodiment of sorts; an astral form that we assume to evade detection and ease the tax on our Masters."

"So… what, nobody can see you when you're like that?" Yang asked carefully as Blake clambered into the passenger bay to join them, a look of intrigue – and wariness – on her face. "You're disembodied and completely undetectable?"

"Not completely," Shielder shrugged. "I can still be detected by skilled enough means, and I can still communicate faultlessly with my Master."

Yang blinked. " _How?_ You _just_ said you're pretty much 'disembodied' in that state, wouldn't talking, like, give you away?"

Shielder smiled at her, before turning a mischievous gaze to Weiss. Before the Heiress could even question it, she yelped as the Knight's smooth, calming voice floated into the recesses of her mind: ' _Shall you inform your team of this, or shall I, Master?'_

"Oh god, he's in my head," Weiss whispered as she hid her face in her hands.

"Wait, what?" Yang asked, her face a mask of confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Telepathic link," Shielder supplied helpfully. "A 'clear line' of communication, of sorts, between a Master and a Servant."

"This is getting weirder and weirder and more _unbelievable_ by the minute!" Weiss said irately as she shook her head. "I… I don't even know how to _feel_ , I want to be angry and curious and I want to ask _so many questions_ and… _Ugh,"_ she finished, slumping back into her chair and sighing.

"I can assure you, my lady, I will tell you everything you could possibly wish to know, and answer every question you may have, as soon as I have pieced together this… odd puzzle," Shielder assured her with a resolute expression. That expression, however, quickly morphed to one of worry as he adjusted his stance. "But more importantly: what of you, Master? Are you well now? You seemed awfully hindered earlier."

"I… I'll be fine," Weiss waved away his concern, but offered him a grateful, yet tired smile in exchange. By all means her suspicion should have persisted – she was tired, sore, weak, on edge and _thoroughly_ aggravated by how little she knew of the current situation. The fatigue, however, won out at this point – Weiss simply felt too tired to try and argue, or pry, or interrogate. At that moment she simply wanted to take Shielder to Ozpin, get this whole mess clarified and go to _bed_ already. Her father would have chastised her for such a lax attitude, and for trusting a complete stranger's word so easily. But her father hadn't witnessed the way the Knight treated her and her team with courteousness and respect. He hadn't witnessed the Knight's chivalry and skill – and he _certainly_ hadn't witnessed the Knight slaying an Ancient Nevermore singlehandedly. _That_ , Weiss reckoned, warranted _some_ trust. "I'm just… amazed," she said finally, locking gazes with Shielder again. "Your performace… The way you fought, it was just…"

"It was _awesome_!"

Weiss jumped in fright suddenly as Ruby popped up in the starboard hatch, her face alight with excitement and curiosity. "I mean what _was_ all of that even? First you were like _whoosh_ and then all those Grimm died and then you were just like _bam_ and _crash_ and then you actually _grounded a Nevermore_ by throwing something at it!"

Despite her immense fatigue, Weiss uttered half a chuckle at Ruby's excitement. Barely half an hour prior she had pondered the times Ruby had made her _proud_ to refer to the diminutive reaper as her leader, and now, here she was, back to her old childish demeanour. Whether it was the fatigue talking or not, Weiss had no idea, but at that moment it was a rather endearing sight. "She's right," the Heiress admitted, turning her gaze back to Shielder. "Your performance back there… I've never seen anything like it. Veteran Huntsmen can't cull as quickly as you did there. It was… It was spectacular."

Shielder offered her a humble smile in response to that remark. "I am flattered by your praise, Lady…" He paused then, trailing off, a look of confusion on his face. "Do forgive this transgression, my lady," he spoke measuredly, "but I've yet to ask your name."

Weiss blinked. _He's… He's right._ All this time he had addressed with her with either 'my lady' or – much to her embarrassment – 'Master'. At first she took it as simple practicality – they _were_ in the middle of a battle, after all. Now though, it seemed as though it had genuinely slipped the Knight's mind. She smiled slightly. "I… My name is Weiss," she introduced herself. "Weiss Schnee."

Shielder blinked – before a wide smile split across his face. "Of course you are, my lady," he chuckled. "I can see the motif quite clearly."

Weiss merely offered him a smile in return, looking down at her mostly white outfit. Yang sauntered forward then. "Name's Yang," she introduced herself. "Yang Xiao Long. I'm… Heh, I'm glad you were on our side," she chortled.

"Blake Belladonna," Blake spoke up behind Yang. She was still keeping her distance, and several hints of distrust still flickered in her eyes – but there was a smile on her face regardless. "Thank you, for helping us back there."

Then a cluster of rose petals erupted before the knight, and Ruby eagerly smiled at him. "Hiya! I'm Ruby – Ruby Rose," she said happily. "And can I just say again that you were _so cool_ back there? Can you teach me how to do that light thing with your sword?" Weiss had to fight against the urge to press a palm against her face at that request.

Shielder, however, took it all in stride. He laughed heartily as he took a step back, gazing at the four Huntresses with mirthful eyes. "Weiss, Ruby, Yang and Blake…" He said with a smile. "I dare say I see a pattern here. Now that time is our ally, allow me to say that it is my great honour to meet you all, and a greater honour still to have stood beside you on the battlefield. I, as said, am Servant Shielder – at your service."

"We're pleased to meet you too!" Ruby chirped happily, sitting down on the edge of the hatch. Behind her, the unconscious pilot stirred slightly – but didn't awaken. "It's not every day we get to meet an honest-to-goodness knight, you know!"

"Is 'Shielder' really your name, though?" Blake spoke up, eyeing the colossal shield on the Knight's back. "I mean… Forgive me if I'm prying, but 'Shielder' seems more like a title than a name… A pseudonym perhaps?"

"Astute observation, Lady Belladonna," the Knight responded. "In this… situation, I have been incarnated into the 'class' of Shielder. It's a unique class in and of itself, and stands apart from the standard classes a Heroic Spirit can be summoned into. Most Servants prefer to be called by their Class Names in order to avoid the enemy determining their identity."

"I take it those 'other classes' you mentioned is something we'll learn about once we get you to Ozpin?" Weiss inquired, her eyelids suddenly feeling rather heavy. Upon receiving a nod from the Knight, she took a deep breath, deciding to trust him. "Why hide your name, though?"

"Tactical advantage," Shielder replied. "We Servants are, in essence, the reiteration of Heroes and Warriors of Legend – at least… where I'm from. The stories of our lives, including our strengths and weaknesses, were known to many, and our incarnations as Servants often crystallise in the image of these legends. As such, an enemy Servant discovering our identity could give them a gross advantage."

"So the chances of you telling us your name are…" Yang trailed off, waiting for Shielder to fill in the blank.

"Normally I'm not at all averse to sharing my name," Shielder responded. "But circumstances do seem odd this time around – especially if a large amount of people bear the marks of command," he said, pointing at the red tattoos adorning Weiss' hand. "I would quite prefer to keep my identity hidden until I've pieced together this puzzle," he said with an apologetic smile, "and I can only do that once I meet someone in charge."

At that moment, the relative silence that had settled across the clearing was broken by the sound of thrusters roaring in the distance. Small birds scattered from the treeline as the cacophonic sound drew ever closer. "Rescue's here!" Ruby declared, hopping out of the Bullhead and stretching. "Can't see 'em yet but that's _definitely_ a Bullhead."

"Which means…" Weiss began, before stifling a yawn. With a grunt of exertion, she clambered out of her seat. Yang quickly fell in line beside her, and started helping her down onto the solid earth. Weiss shot her a thankful look when she steadied herself afterwards, and Yang responded with a grin. "Which means we're likely mere hours from Beacon," she continued with a smile. Already, the thought of a warm bed seemed absolutely heavenly. "How are we going to do this, Shielder?" She asked the knight. "Doubtless there'll be a _lot_ of questions if you're seen here – and if there's a teacher with our rescue team I don't think they'll be keen on accepting the whole 'Take me to your leader' scenario," she said cautiously.

"Indeed," Shielder said, his smile dropping slightly. "It is decided, then. I shall turn astral until you've appeared before your Headmaster. At your call I will make myself known, and then… Well, I'll reveal all I can," he said with a smile, as he began to fade away into flecks of gold. "It would be prudent if you requested that the Headmaster gather all the students bearing Command Spells as well," he informed her. "I do hate to worry you, my lady, but we Servants… are summoned for a rather dangerous event. And whoever bears those marks," he said, beckoning to the red tattoos on Weiss' hand, "deserves to know what they're getting into."

"Of course," Weiss responded, stifling another yawn. "Professor Ozpin is quite open-minded. I'm sure he'll understand. Especially… Especially if he sees my tattoo has turned red now." She look back at Shielder and smiled. "Will you keep in contact? Through that telepathic link you mentioned?"

"Of _course_ , my lady," Shielder assured her with a broad smile. "I have pledged sword and shield to you; until otherwise ordered I shall be by your side whenever you may have need of me."

"That… That's good," Weiss nodded. "Thank you… for helping us today," she said earnestly. The Knight's performance was more than just spectacular; it had helped them _so much_ it beggared belief. The Heiress wouldn't be surprised if they _aced_ this assignment regardless of her health issues. Shielder merely kept his smile up, nodding to her as he disappeared completely.

And not a moment too soon, either – with a monstrous roar accompanied by a high-pitched turbine whine, the Bullhead that Beacon had codenamed "Blacksparrow" came hovering into view. The side hatches were pulled open, and warm, soothing _relief_ flooded Weiss' heart as she recognized Team CFVY and Professor Goodwitch. The veteran Huntress' shoulders seem to sag slightly, and she offered them the _tiniest_ of smiles when she saw they were relatively unharmed, and Coco offered them a hearty salute as she kept her minigun deployed. Velvet waved at them from her seat, quickly standing up as the Bullhead descended.

Weiss took a deep breath as she stared at them, smiling widely, before her gaze dropped to her tattoo. She was honestly as frightened by the prospect of introducing Shielder to Ozpin as she was excited by it. On one hand, she was confused – she had so many questions it went beyond description, after all. But on the other hand, her excitement pooled as she realized she was _mere hours_ away from having all those questions answered. And to top it all off, she and her Team had gained a powerful ally out of the deal to boot.

 _Ally_ …

She frowned slightly as she gazed at those glowing red marks on her hand. She could respect Shielder's wishes to keep his identity hidden for now. That didn't alleviate just how… _cold_ it felt to her, addressing the knight who had helped her and her team simply by his title. Blacksparrow edged ever closer to touchdown, and by now Ruby and Yang were waving happily at Team CFVY, calling out to them and whistling shrilly, and even Blake seemed relieved by the arrival. Still…

' _Shielder?'_ She chanced, vocalizing a thought in her mind and hoping that the knight would hear her.

' _Yes, my lady?'_ The smooth voice seemed to ripple through her mind, and the edges of her mouth twitched upwards as the _barest_ hints of controlled excitement set in. She _actually_ had a _telepathic link_ with someone. Outside of certain Semblances that was unheard of – so the prospect of actually having access to such a fantastical thing made her more than a little giddy.

' _I was wondering,'_ she said earnestly. ' _I don't… Just calling you 'Shielder' feels so… stuffy. It's like referring to a maid simply as 'Maid'. It feels… haughty. Condescending, even,'_ she admitted. ' _Is there nothing else I can call you by? Something a bit more… informal? I know you referred to yourself as a Servant, but… I don't view you as a servant. You went above and beyond that today. I… I consider you an ally,'_ she said finally, ' _and I can assure you my team shares that sentiment.'_

For a moment, silence lingered in her mind, leaving her thoughts interrupted. Before long, however, that smooth voice loosed a serene chuckle into her mind. ' _An ally, you say… It seems I've been summoned by a rather interesting Master this time around,'_ Shielder mused, and Weiss directed her gaze upwards as the Bullhead finally landed. Her teammates quickly turned to her, Yang and Ruby each seizing her by an arm and pulling her forward, supporting her as she walked on numb, shaky legs. ' _I suppose that I can make a little exception, for such an honest Master,'_ Shielder's voice rang in her head as Velvet and Yatsuhashi helped Weiss board the Bullhead.

And when Weiss was finally seated and strapped in, and the rest of Team RWBY was piling into the rescue craft, Weiss caught a glimpse of lilac from her peripheral vision. With a confused expression she turned to see what it was – only to smile slightly when she could make out the vague outline of the Knight who had helped her Team so greatly. Spectral, in such a way that only she could see, Shielder smiled at her – an honest, compassionate expression, to accompany the melodious voice in her mind as the thrusters roared to life again. Her stomach churned a the craft took off – but for some reason, the braying of the Bullhead's thrusters seemed distant as Shielder's voice flickered through her mind again, divulging a piece of information that truly brought a wide smile to her face:

' _Galahad, my lady,'_ the Knight said warmly. ' _My name is Galahad.'_

* * *

" _Aaaaaaaand_ _ **CUT!**_ " Angra's voice rang out across the darkness, as the vision slowly bled away into the shadows. Slowly the picture dimmed and scattered, as the visage of the girls clad in red, white, black and yellow slowly misted away until nothing but a comforting void surrounded her again. " _Weeeell~? Whaddaya say, Rinny?"_

Rin, surprisingly, was rendered speechless, but she was quite certain that if she still had access to a physical form she would be _beaming_ at that point. When Angra had said he was going to 'keep his word' and have someone summon one of history's more heroically inclined spirits, she was expecting a great many outcomes. What she was _not_ expecting was for a young girl skilled with a rapier and runecraft, seemingly, to summon one of the greatest examples of a 'perfect knight' in history:

Sir Galahad of Camelot; the knight that legend claims was so determined and pure of heart, he succeeded in _obtaining_ the Holy Grail – just so he could return it to Heaven.

" _Indeed!"_ Angra's voice rang out across the darkness. " _Sir Galahad, the Pure Virgin Knight_ Numero Uno _. Told you I was gonna put my money where my mouth was! And did I fail to deliver? Huh? Did I?"_

' _No,'_ Rin grudgingly admitted, the notes of joy and excitement still clinging to her every syllable. ' _No, you weren't lying. I am… pleasantly surprised, Angra. I expected you to be an ass about this. Maybe try to annoy me more than you already do. Instead… You kept your word. Sir Galahad… As a_ Shielder… _What an enviable Servant…'_

" _Ohohohohoho, you ain't seen_ _ **nothing**_ _yet, Rinny!"_ Angra cajoled in the distance. " _I've taken a look at all the participants in this war, yanno. Measured them, took their cup siz-I mean spirits into consideration, and guess what? I've_ already _matched them to their Servants. I may I just say, without spoiling too much, that this is gonna be one_ hell _of a wild ride!"_ He cackled. " _So whaddya say, Rinny? Are you in? You gonna spectate this war with me? Will you come flyyyy~ with me, let's flyyyy, let's fly awaaayyy… Cuz right now you've got so much to lose, BUT I've got more hands to play! Come flyyyy with me-"_

Despite everything, despite her most valiant efforts, Rin found herself laughing. It was an honest bout of laughter, one she hadn't had the privilege of experience since stepping into this black void. ' _Alright, alright, you daft bastard,'_ she relented, trying to clear the joyous, _grateful_ laughter from her voice. ' _You kept your promise. If you're going to summon more heroes like Galahad to keep this war…_ balanced _, so to speak, then… Then yes. I'll spectate this war with you, you unbearable child.'_

" _HaHAH!_ _ **Yes!**_ _"_ Angra Mainyu's voice inflated with cheer and what sounded like _honest to goodness_ happiness. Rin wasn't really surprised – if he really _was_ the Zoroastrian 'god of evil' then it was likely the fool never had any friends in the first place. So she could forgive a bout of childish excitement – this time, at least. " _Chalk it up right now: Plus one friend. Aww, it's gonna be_ wicked _Rinny! Just_ wait _until you see what I've got planned! I'm gonna blow your mind more than-"_

' _More than mind-blowing sex, yes, you've used that one already,'_ Rin interrupted him dryly. Her voice still carried an audible smirk, however, and the warm fires of happiness and relief still burned in her core. _There might be hope yet,_ she thought cheerfully.

" _Oh there's more than hope, Rinny,"_ Angra responded to that thought. " _So buckle up! Grab your popcorn, pop your drinks, sit back and_ relaaaa~aax. _Because hear my words now, Rinny,"_ he spoke cheerfully, sounding every bit like a kid in the proverbial candy store.

" _This right here? It's gonna be the biggest, wildest, absolute_ _ **best**_ _Grail War ever._ _ **That**_ _I assure you of, my friend."_

* * *

 **Post-Chapter A/N:** **Aaand we're done! After a goliathon 30K words, the official first chapter of this story comes to a close - bonds are forged, friendships are forged, and finally a Servant is summoned.  
**

 **Some pre-emptive placating to be done here. I notice that Shielder's summoning was rather... _wacky_ compared to a typical Nasuverse summoning, especially considering there was neither a Catalyst, a Summoning Cirlce _or_ an Incantation of sorts. It also wreaked a ton of havoc on Weiss' Aura and health. Let me underline this real quick:  This was deliberate. Call it my attempt at introducing a nifty little plot device that will allow me to bring out the Big Guns and initiate _Maximum Grail War(TM)_ so to speak. I know it seems fuzzy, and inaccurate, but all will be revealed _next_ chapter, when secrets are outed, questions are answered and harsh realizations occur.**

 **...Plus, there _was_ that one bloke in Fate/Strange Fake who managed to hack a summoning simply by 'fiddling with' the magical energy in the area so I really don't think what I have planned is _that_ weird xD**

 **What else... Angra's personality, I touched on in last chapter's A/N. Oh yeah! The poll!**

 **As you've no doubt noticed, Shielder in this story is a "pseudo-O.C" Servant, and I can confirm more O.C Servants will be appearing later in the story (if Fate/Grand Order doesn't beat me to it, that is). I realize a trend with stories like this one is for the author to release "Stat Sheets" for all the Servants appearing, like the VN proper did. I'm torn, however - and I can't decide whether I should just throw the Servant Bios into the A/N's of every chapter they appear in, or whether I should follow Nerve Damage's example and publish a separate document, given the Loads and Loads of Servants that are slated to appear. As such, I've decided to let _you_ dear readers choose which would be more comfortable for you. The two options in the poll are simple: "A/N Servant Bios" versus "Separate Document Servant Bios". If its not too much to ask, I would greatly appreciate you guys' input on this matter :) So if you've got a chance, please make your preference known!**

 **As always, a massive shout-out to Unseen Lurker, whose godly sounding-board skills and critiques help shape this story, and a massive amount of thanks to _you_ once again, dear reader, for powering through 30 000 words just to reach this point. I can only hope it was an enjoyable read :) **

**Until next time,**

 **-Chaos**


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